The Wilkerson Institute

Also very plush and well appointed was the blonde quietly standing to one side, next to my neatly stacked bags. Delia motioned the girl over, and introduced us. "Mr. deFrame, this is Jeanine. Jeanine is your room steward, and will be taking care of laundry, bedding, cleaning, and such. If you have any problems, or wish to make a change, just let the concierge know, and we'll be happy to accommodate you."

I looked at Jeanine. She was wearing the classic "French Maid" outfit, a short black dress with built in white apron, short puffy sleeves, very low cut bodice, rather short hemline, black fishnet stockings or pantyhose, black high heels. The bodice was really cut low, showing an amazing amount of cleavage. This girl couldn't drown with cement blocks tied to her feet. Her nametag was perched almost off to the side. She had her hair cut short in a pageboy style.

I looked back at Delia. "I'm sure we'll get along just fine."

"Excellent," she said to me. Again turning to the maid, she continued, "Mr. deFrame has indicated he'd like to rest and freshen up before he ventures onto the grounds."

"Of course," replied Jeanine. "I delayed unpacking your bags, sir, until you arrived," she said to me.

"I'll be leaving now, Mr. deFrame. Oh, one last item. You have an appointment scheduled for Wednesday morning with Mr. Wilkerson. I'm afraid he can't see you till then. If there's a problem or conflict, just let the concierge know and we can reschedule. Good day."

My guide left and closed the door behind us. I turned back to Jeanine.

"Will you be resting first, then freshening up, or the other way around, sir?"

"Right now all I want is a long, hot shower and a nap."

"Very good, sir. The bath is right through here. I'll unpack for you. Any special instructions?" The last question sounded intriguing. No, I better not. I still didn't know quite what to expect.

"No. Unpacking will be fine."

"Yes, sir."

I walked into the bath and closed the door. As I expected, a second door opened into the bedroom. I closed this door as well. The bathroom was huge. Two marble sinks, a matching whirlpool bathtub, a shower for three, Italian tile, toilet and bidet. Not that I needed a bidet. Which made me wonder, who would be needing one, here?. An interesting question. But no matter, I stripped down and hung my clothes on a hook, and turned on the water. Within seconds I was under a stinging, hot, shower. I luxuriated in the water for a seeming age, and felt the miles of travel wash away with my grime.

To my surprise, when I stepped out, my clothes had disappeared, to be replaced by a long, plush velour robe. Jeanine was being quite efficient. Still drying my hair, I opened the bedroom door and walked in.

Jeanine was still there, putting my luggage in the bottom of a closet. She looked up and said, "I've unpacked everything, sir. Your clothes are in the dresser and the closet. I noticed some dirty clothing, and separated it. I'll see that it's either dry-cleaned, or cleaned and pressed. You'll have it back by tomorrow morning."

"Well, thank you. That's very efficient, indeed."

"Thank you, sir. Feeling better now?"

"Yes, quite. But I still want that nap."

"Of course. I've turned down the bed for you." And she had, too. I stood there like an idiot for a moment, not knowing what to do. Ask her to leave? Tip her? Was she going to stay and tuck me in?

Jeanine seemed to understand my confusion. She came over from the closet and took my elbow. "Now, why don't you just come over here," she said, leading me to the edge of the bed. "Just sit down here." I sat on the edge, where it was turned down. "I think I can help you relax."

And then, as I sat there and dumbly looked up at her, she reached behind her back. In seconds, she had unzipped her maid's uniform. It fell away from her front and slid to the floor. Deftly, she kicked it off to one side.

Wow! Just WOW! All she had on under the uniform was fishnet stockings, thigh high, right up to the tops of her thighs. And her high heels. Her tits were really huge, with small, pale nipples. Her waist was narrow, with a very pleasant curve to it. A deep navel. She was a natural blonde, with faint, very curly pubic hair. Wide hips. Pleasantly thick thighs, but not lumpy or ugly, tapering down to very tiny feet.

I was awestruck. Almost immediately after stripping, she knelt at my feet and placed her hands on my knees. Effortlessly she spread them apart, and moved between them. Reaching up, she untied my robe and spread it apart. My cock literally sprang out of the opening. I hadn't been this hard in ages. Without a skipped beat, she leaned in and wrapped her lips around the head.

The sensation was pure heaven. I could have died a happy man at that instant. Lord knows she could have sucked me to death if she had tried. And Lord, could she suck! Not content with simply sucking the tip, she continued lowering her mouth onto my organ. She only stopped when it was completely engulfed, with my pubic hairs tickling her nose and chin. And her tongue! It was swirling on all sides, bottom and top. Her cheeks were puffing in and out. The action was like an erotic vacuum cleaner. And her teeth never touched me. Not a single nip.

I looked down on her actions. Her head was bobbing up and down furiously on my root. Her long fingernails were gently scratching and rubbing my balls. Oh, that felt good! I hadn't been laid in weeks, and they were just filled with come. Below, I could see those huge tits bouncing up and down, and side to side. I think that's what did it for me. With a mighty groan, I cried, "I'm coming!"

Amazingly, this only spurred Jeanine on. The vacuum cleaner went into overdrive, and she sucked everything I could give her. Her head stopped bobbing near the top of the stroke, with just my cockhead between her lips. One hand gently squeezed my nuts, while the other furiously pumped my shaft. She was pumping me dry, and I gladly accommodated the demand. I don't think any of my come landed in her mouth, it just went straight down her throat, I was spewing so hard.

Finally, the well ran dry. I collapsed backwards onto the bed, my legs and balls still hanging over the edge. Jeanine stood up again, and I weakly dragged myself back from the precipice. Laying atop the turned down bedclothes, I sprawled in the center of the bed.

But Jeanine wasn't down, yet. Walking to the foot of the bed, she crawled onto the bed and buried her face in my crotch again. Maybe she really was going to try to suck me to death. Although I thought I was done for, my partner in crime came to life again. As she sucked on my flaccid cock, I looked down, and could see it stiffening again, slowly at first, and then faster and faster. But she didn't plan to suck me dry again.

As soon as I was erect, Jeanine pulled her mouth off me and pulled her legs up beneath her. Moving quickly and surely, she promptly straddled my waist. Both hands had never left my cock during this movement. Now they positioned my dick between her legs, and she sank down onto it, impaling herself.

If the blowjob was good, this was great. My back arched as I thrust up to meet her descent. But the urgency of before was gone. Although my hips kept bucking upward with the pleasure, my orgasm could be delayed for a while.

This seemed to suit Jeanine just fine. Her hands were still at our now joined crotches. But now, in addition to rubbing the length of my shaft, they also were furiously working her clitoris. She had stretched her pussy lips, and her clit, small and blood engorged, seemed to throb from the attention. I reached up and cupped her breasts. My thumbs and forefingers whirled around the nipples, pinching and pulling. She had small nipples, but they were pleasantly warm and hard. This had an electrifying affect on her. Her breath became ragged and coarse, and sweat began rolling down her chest. Her tits became delightfully slick and beads of sweat dripped down onto my chest.

I kept up this action, and her pelvis, previously moving slowly atop mine, began bouncing faster and faster. Her hands were in a blur on her clit and my cock. I could feel myself approaching the edge again, but this only made me increase my tit action. Finally, with a ragged shriek, Jeanine collapsed onto my chest. Both hands snaked down between us, and she squeezed my balls, one in each hand. That did it. I exploded upwards into her. She lay on top of me until I fell asleep, my limp cock still inside her.

***

I awoke in the same position as I had gone to sleep in, sprawled across the bed. Jeanine had left. Maybe she had to tuck somebody else in. Before going, she did cover me with the robe I was still wearing. I was still atop the turned down sheets.

What the hell, what did I expect, anyway? Literally. I had no idea what to expect. I got up.

Another shower and I felt fairly fresh and clean again. I wandered back into the bedroom and opened the closet. And was rather surprised by what I found. The closet was a large wall closet. Behind the bifold doors on one side were my clothes, on the other side were a large collection of ladies garments. Nighties, negligees, gowns, robes, teddies, the whole nine yards! I looked through them. They were all quite sheer and seductive. I guess they allowed the girls a chance to change without returning to wherever they returned to.

I grabbed a pair of slacks, a shirt, and a sport coat, and threw them on the bed. Walking to the large dresser, I opened it to look for some shorts and socks. No shorts. Curious, I turned back to the closet and popped open my suitcases. There they were. I guess Jeanine figured I wouldn't be needing them. Maybe I wouldn't. Fuck it, I closed up the suitcases and tossed them back in the closet.

I grabbed the slacks and pulled them on over my bare ass. What other surprises awaited me? Going back to the dresser, I pulled the other drawers open. The bottom drawer had more women's clothing, a wide variety of stockings, several different sizes, both garter length and thigh high, a few garter belts, several types of panties and bras, and so forth. This was becoming quite interesting.

Continuing dressing, I looked into the nightstands. One had a number of vibrators and dildos, along with a tube of KY jelly. The other had several different types of restraints, handcuffs, straps, ropes, shackles, and the sort. Maybe Jeanine had a kinky streak. Other drawers contained several pornographic magazines, mostly mainline like Playboy and Penthouse, some not quite so usual, and a few videotapes. I had a pretty good idea what kind, but I couldn't find how to turn on the TV in the bedroom.

Finished dressing, I pulled out a pair of socks from the dresser, then threw them back. If Don Johnson could dress like this, fuck it, so could I. I slipped on my loafers and went out to the living room. Back to the investigation.

The living room didn't seem to hold as many surprises. I still couldn't figure out how to turn on the tube. An endtable held some more magazines and tapes, but that was about all. No whips and chains. The bar was well stocked, but that really wasn't a surprise. The kitchen was semi-bare, except for some beer and a few salted snacks. A fruit bowl was filled. A Xeroxed schedule was on the buffet near the entrance, detailing events and doings I had no idea of, in places I didn't know about.

It was now late afternoon. Time to see what there was to see. I walked back out into the hallway, back to the elevators. Debra was no longer concierge, a different girl was behind the desk, now. As I approached, she stood.

"Mr. deFrame. I hope you're feeling better now?"

"Yes, quite," I replied.

"Good. I'm Terry. Debra mentioned that you were resting. When you woke, I was to give you the guided tour and get you oriented to the Wilkerson. Is that all right?," she said in a light soprano.

"Sure, no problem. What do we do first?" I looked Terry over. Terry was considerably different from Jeanine. For one thing, she was tiny, barely five feet tall. Very slim. I doubted she weighed 98 pounds soaking wet. Not that this was a problem. I thought the sight of her naked and soaking wet would be quite stimulating. She was very pretty, with a classic oval face, shoulder length blonde hair, and enough curves to keep a fellow more than interested. She, too, was in the yellow skirt, jacket, and high heels which seemed to be the uniform for the staff. Very becoming. I felt my cock begin to stir. Maybe Jeanine hadn't killed it after all.

Terry pushed a button under the desk, and walked around to my side. "I just called for my replacement. As soon as she's here, we can go." We talked for maybe five minutes, mostly about my trip in, when the elevator opened. Another girl, similarly attired, stepped out, and we stepped in. Moments later we were back in the lobby. Tucking an arm through mine, she led me down the hallway.

To be honest, this time the lecture took hold. Earlier, when Delia was showing me around, I was too tired to really pay attention. Now, fresh and fit, I found everything fascinating. A fairly large number of men were present, all being squired around, or otherwise accompanied by, one or more very pretty young women. The women, again, a surprisingly large number, were all quite exquisite, centerfold quality. Mode of dress for the girls was fairly casual, the vast majority wearing some combination of very short skirts, various revealing tops, and high heels. Only a few seemed to be wearing brassieres. A few were in nothing more than thong and string bikinis. Pool side, I guess.

Terry showed me around the west wing, keeping up a pleasant patter the entire time. I've already mentioned the restaurant and night club. A small, dark bar, with several very secluded booths, joined them. Then we went out a side door and walked outside.

I should have left the jacket upstairs. Mexico in the summer afternoon is rather warm. I slung it over my free shoulder, and together we walked down a path through a large garden. Shortly, we went through another door. I found we had entered the south wing near the pro shops. Terry asked if I golfed or played tennis.

"No golf. And I haven't played tennis in years."

"I'm surprised," she remarked. "You seem to be in excellent shape. Do you work out at all?"

"Some. I jog twice a week, and I like to swim. I guess I'm just lucky."

"I guess so," she said, looking up at me. "All I have to do is look at a cheesecake, and I put on five pounds." She puffed out her cheeks like a chipmunk. We both laughed.

Going through the golf shop, she grabbed a set of keys for a golf cart and said, "Come on, let's take a ride!" We continued on outside, where she hopped into a cart. I climbed in opposite her, and we bounced and puttered on our merry way. Despite my lack of interest in golf, we rode along the course for a while. I didn't mind at all. Terry exuded an air of available sexuality, and I delighted in watching her legs working the pedals.

Shortly, she turned off the golf path and drove past the tennis courts. About half were open air, the rest under an open-sided pavilion. We continued on, past the courts, and drove around a pool area. Several small, and one large, swimming pools were set amid more gardens. I was surprised by the time the tour had taken when we pulled up at the pro shop again. And Terry mentioned several other places, such as a riding stable and jogging paths, which we hadn't seen.

One really fascinating fact, which she didn't mention, but was quite obvious. Everywhere we went, the golf course, the gardens, even the tennis courts and swimming pools, had a large number of very secluded spots. Spots where a fellow could easily retire with a young lady for an intimate alfresco interlude. In fact, I suspected a few were in use. I had seen several golf carts stopped near such spots, with no one in sight. While I hadn't taken advantage of such a spot, I had the distinct feeling Terry would have been willing, if not eager, to introduce me to such a site. Ah well, opportunity lost.

Once back inside, the air conditioned air felt chilly, so I put on my jacket again. Terry put her arm through mine again, and led me back towards the south wing. "Thirsty? I am! Let's get a drink!," she said, leading me into the bar.

We ordered drinks, and I asked if all the girls I had seen were students here.

"Almost all. If they have white nametags, like mine they're students. Blue means they're permanent staff, like the doctor, the chef, and the teachers."

"Teachers?," I asked, in confusion.

"Oh, yes! We all study, five days a week! Actually, for only half days. We split shift, half going to school mornings, the rest in the afternoon."

"Where? I didn't see anybody going to school."

"Oh, well, I mean, it's not really on the tour, so to speak. And by now, it's closed for the day. The school is the small building down behind the jogging trails."

"I'm fascinated! What do you study?"

"Nothing special, you know, the usual, readin', 'ritin', 'n' 'rithmetic."

"But why?"

"Well, quite a few of us come here without a good formal education, I mean, like a high school diploma. But Mr. Wilkerson requires us all to earn at least a GED. And on the off shift, we work around the Institute, learning to keep house and cook, and first aid and such."

"Very impressive." And it was. For one thing, it obviated the need for a large staff. And it was obvious, I hadn't seen all of the women here. I could see I would have a number of questions for the mysterious Mr. Wilkerson. "Can I see the school."

Terry looked surprised, but said, "Sure. No reason you can't. But you'll have to wait till tomorrow. It's closed for the evening. If you want, you can get a guide in the morning. I'll leave word at the front desk. Is that satisfactory?"

"Perfectly. Now, let's go eat."

I had slept through lunch and by now had worked up a good appetite. From what Terry had told me, I could order room service through the concierge at any time, but I didn't know that earlier. The dining room was very luxurious, carefully matched silver and china, comfortable chairs and booths, long linen table cloths. Very long, linen table cloths. This curiosity was explained, when, halfway through dinner, a man across the room dropped his fork on the floor at his feet. The waitress knelt on the floor and moved under the table to pick it up. In short order, she was completely under the table, almost hidden. She stayed there about fifteen minutes, during which time, the gentleman's face grew rather red. Then a look a pleasure and relief suffused his countenance, and shortly thereafter the waitress popped back up, grasping the fork. And all this while, the man's, um, date, was sitting next to him, seemingly oblivious to what was occurring at her feet.

***

It was mid-evening when we left the south wing. After a slow, stately meal, we had gone into the bar for a couple of more drinks. By then, the remains of my jet lag started beating on me again, so I mentioned perhaps I needed to get some more sleep. Terry simply stood and took my arm again, and walked with me back to the elevators.

She took her duties seriously. She escorted me upstairs, and walked me down the hall to my door. I stood there for a few seconds, not knowing what to do next. Thank her? Invite her in? Was she still on duty?

Terry noted the look of confusion on my face. "Is there a problem, Mr. deFrame?"

"Uh...well...I mean...uh, what's the procedure at this point? I mean, what is the, uh, protocol for, uh..."

"Oh, I see," she said. She gently took my elbow and pointed me towards an alcove with several armchairs. "Why don't we sit here for a second."

We sat. "I believe what you want to know, what is the proper etiquette involved in, shall we say, meeting and getting to know one of the students?"