Couple Swapping In Our Resort – Part 1

Hello readers. My name is Komal Asha. I am a dark-skinned thin body twenty-five years old woman working at a resort in Goa. My body type is not very interesting. My boyfriend often taunts me for having small breasts. Hearing this description, you might not be interested in knowing more about me.

That’s okay. You are not the first to show disinterest in me. Anyway, I am not here to talk about myself. Today I want to tell you about a strange thing, couple swapping, that happened at our resort.

Birds Paradise is a beautiful four-star resort built on a privately owned beach in north Goa. Although we cater to all kinds of rich folk, our main target customers are young couples. The resort is designed to make this place less family-friendly.

Whenever someone calls us to book a room, we heavily discourage them from bringing their under-aged children along. That’s because we guarantee privacy to our customers who wish to stay in our resort scantily dressed.

Although Indians don’t do it, you might see many foreign women walking topless in our resort. I am not saying that ‘you’ specifically be able to see them.

Our highly skilled security team does not allow any customer inside without a recommendation letter from our pre-existing customers. That’s why you won’t find any advertisement about our resort on social media.

The reason I am allowed in this resort is that I work here. I have been for the last two years. Believe me when I say this, working here has not been easy. We have to tolerate a lot of things. There are no security cameras in our resort. Since we provide full privacy, our customers do a lot of shameless things freely.

You’ll find people kissing, touching each other inappropriately, and a lot of sexual censor-free talk. As a matter of fact, the moment they lower their inhibitions with an alcoholic welcome drink, they start dressing down at the reception itself.

We have to actually stop them as total nudity is not allowed in common spaces. We have rooms, private pools, and closed restaurant sections for couples to get naked and do nasty stuff to each other. It took me six months to adjust to this workplace. Many friends of mine quit this job after what they saw.

On their way out, they had to sign NDAs (Non-Disclosure Agreement) so that they don’t talk about what happens in the resort outside. If they violate this contract, they will be heavily fined and possibly even put in jail.

While most of the security at our resort is muscular men, all the rest of the attendants are strictly female. After all, the owner does not want to see waiters serving food with a constant erection in their pants.

I hope you get the feel of all the weird things that happen here normally. After two years of work experience, I am nearly de-sensitized to these shameless acts. Having said this, the story I am going to tell you today is weirder. It bothered me so much that I had to write it down. So let’s begin.

This story is what happened during our offseason. It is that time of the year when there are little to no customers in our resort. The result is that most of the hotel staff are laid off with half-pay vacation. I got my paid vacation in my first year, but this year I had to stay.

It was monsoon time, and our resort was literally empty. We didn’t have much work to do except for basic cleaning. Our customers rarely showed up, mostly during the weekends. They were usually our regular customers who have rooms booked every year on these specific dates.

Life was pretty boring during this time. All my friends were gone on their vacation. Also, we are not allowed to carry a mobile phone during work hours. I was mostly tasked to stay at the reception counter.

One afternoon I was polishing the room keys, just the gold plated number badges, and hanging them back to their respective hooks. That’s when a young couple arrived. I was busy with my back facing towards them. Suddenly I heard sounds of heavy breathing.

I turned to find the couple engaged in an intimate lip-lock at the counter. Both of them had their eyes shut while their lips were hugging. Their tongues were entangled as they continued to kiss. I was disgusted at first, but this is what we are trained for. I started looking around, picking up details about this couple.

Based on what I observed, this was a handsome young couple. They are newlywed based on the fresh mehendi on the woman’s hand. Both were wearing matching loose yellow T-shirts and brown shorts. They had a big suitcase hinting that they had come to stay for a week.

There was an airport security sticker on the bag with their names Tarun and Reema Raina on it. They seemed decently rich but not as wealthy as most of our customers. After making a few more random observations, I started losing my patience as the couple was still kissing.

The man slowly started squeezing her butt. So accidentally, on purpose, I dropped a bunch of keys to snap them back to reality. The woman felt embarrassed, seeing me straight at them while the man had a wide grin on his face.

“Yes, sir… madam… how can I help you?” I asked politely.

“Yes… Um… we want a room here,” said Tarun, the husband.

“Honeymoon Suite,” Reema whispered, the wife.

“Yes, a honeymoon suite, please. How much will that be?” Tarun asked.

This initiated a long conversation. After hearing our five-figure charge for the royal honeymoon suite, he asked for something cheaper. The man tried to use his full bargaining power. Still, I did not reduce the price. Even during the off-season, we have strict instructions to keep the price fixed.

At times I felt as if the wife was trying to seduce me by pouting her lips and deepening her cleavage. Unfortunately for her, I am neither a guy nor a lesbian. After a lot of back and forth, they settled on the cheapest room available at our hotel.

“That’ll be Rs 9499 for one night,” I said.

Hearing the amount made him sweat as he took out the wallet to pay with his card. Once we were done with the payment as a formality, I asked for the letter.

“What letter?” the man asked.

“The recommendation letter,” I said.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked.

The couple seemed clueless about this policy of our resort.

“Sir, you have to have a recommendation letter from one of our pre-existing customers to be allowed to stay here.”

“What! this is wrong. I just paid for a room, and now you are saying I need some sort of freaking letter. What the frack!” he cursed.

I tried to calmly explain the policy to the couple. But both of them were freaking out. It seemed that all the sexual arousal they had initially had suddenly vanished.

“Tell me where I can find a customer to get a letter!” he shouted at the top of his voice.

“Here.”

We heard the voice of a middle-aged man. All of us turned to see Mr. Subir Thakur. He’s our regular customer. Fair as white skin, slightly obese, larger than life personality, and a generous tipper.

The reason I remember his name is because he was one of the first customers I attended. Learning that it was my first week at work, he tipped an amount twice the price of the drink I served him.

“I’ll write this cute couple a letter,” said Subir sir with a charming smile. Hearing this, the couple started thanking him. Tarun grabbed sir’s hand and started kissing it. Meanwhile, sir had locked eyes with his young wife. This was strange, but I saw Reema blush looking at Subir sir.

I waited for their greeting to be over and then greeted him myself. “Hello, Subir sir. So nice to see you again.”

“Oh, you remember my name.”

“Of course, sir, how can I forget? Is Menka madam with you?”

Menka Thakur is Subir sir’s wife. As charming and rich Subir sir is, his wife Menka is a busty bombshell way out of his league. A dusky beauty with whitish eyes, brown hair, and a huge double DD rack. If deep down somewhere, I ever desire to become a lesbian, then that is because of Menka ma’am.

As usual, before I saw her, I could smell the fragrance of her strong, distinct perfume. Quickly I closed my eyes to sniff Menka’s sweet scent. Seeing me react this way, Subir sir didn’t feel the need to answer my question. The rest of their checking in process was a blur.

I was simply enchanted by Menka’s immortal goddess-like beauty. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a lesbian. It’s just Menka’s looks. She does look like a woman in her late forties, and yet she is hot as hell. The rest of the day went as normal.

Both the couple checked into their respective rooms and went their way. Since the resort was nearly empty, I could easily track where both the couple were. As I observed them from far, both the couples mostly kept their distance from each other.

They occasionally exchanged greetings when their paths crossed and then walked their way.

I was personally assigned to take care of all their needs. Rather I volunteered for that job. The next morning I carried the cart full of breakfast to Subir sir’s room. Just out of curiosity, before knocking, I placed my ear on the door, trying to hear what they were doing inside.

“Jackpot!” It felt as if I had won a lottery. I could hear Menka Ma’am and Subir sir having sex inside. I tried looking through the keyhole, but I saw nothing. Unfortunately, keyholes don’t work that way anymore. Instead, I continued to hear them.

Even now, I distinctly remember their every moan, grunt, scream, and how sir, in the end, said, “Oh frack! Here comes my spam!”

It was only after they were back to their normal breathing pattern I knocked on the door. Still, I had to wait. I did not complain. I simply closed my eyes and imagined what all positioned they did in.

Subir sir laying flat on the bed while Menka rode his cock. With every bounce her bubble butt took, I could see her moan louder while pulling her hair or lifting her tit to lick her own nipple.

“Komal.” spoke a female voice. I screamed as if I saw a ghost. It was Menka ma’am. She was wearing a black one-piece swimsuit, deep neck, and totally backless, looking pretty as ever at that moment.

The fabric was tight, neatly clinging to her fit body that highlighted all her beautiful curves. The shocking part was that she was soaking wet, as if she just returned from the pool.

I was lost, confused. The only words that came out of my mouth were “Ma’am…breakfast.”

She smiled and then took control of the cart from me. On my way out, I kept on wondering, “If sir’s wife was in the pool, then who was having sex with him?”

I knew that it couldn’t be any of the female staff. As kind as he is to all of us, clearly, he has standards as to what kind of women he sleeps with. This meant that the only woman left was… Reema? I was still confused.

This other customer at our resort Reema Raina. “How can it possibly be her?” She just got married and seemed passionately in love when she kissed her husband at the counter.

The day went on. Next, I saw Reema was during lunch with her husband. They were doing this cheesy thing all newly married couples do. They were eating from one plate.

They shared everything and spoon-fed each other. They even shared their drink. For this very reason, our resort orders Y shaped straws in bulk. They seemed happy sharing the meal.

The restaurant seating area was mostly empty, with a few outside customers were there just for lunch. When the young couple was halfway through their meal, Mr. and Mrs. Thakur entered. I was hoping to get some hint as to what happened in the bedroom.

Strangely the elder couple simply walked past the young one and sat in the other corner of the restaurant. They were busy chatting with each other. For the rest of the lunch, the two couples did not interact.

Usually, I will forget this sort of thing as I have a hundred other jobs to do at the resort. But I didn’t. I couldn’t come up with any justifiable reason why Mr. Thakur would cheat on his ideal wife.

Later that evening, I was watering our plants by the beach.  We have a gardener for this sort of thing, but I get a lot of free time during the off-season.

While I was doing my job, I saw my lesbian crush Mrs. Menka Thakur walking on the beach barefoot. She was wearing a nice white-pink flowery top and jeans shorts. Her silky, wavy brown hair was neatly resting on her right shoulder as she peacefully walked on the windy beach.

I was enchanted by her beauty. As the sun was slowly setting, the sun’s orange light was making her fair flawless skin glow. With every step she took in the soft sand, my eyes followed her beautiful thighs.

Menka maintains her body very well, which is totally in contrast to how I keep myself. She looks so amazing that I could just look at her do nothing for hours.

Again I need to stress the point that I am not a lesbian. Menka is like a mother to me, a hot sexy mother. Oh sorry! I might be making things worse. Let’s just continue with the story. While I was admiring her beauty, unknowingly, I was drowning the plants with water.

“I think you should stop watering that plant,” said someone.

I turned to see Tarun, the young husband. He smiled at me while turning off the tap. I was embarrassed and scared that he might complain to my superior. But he did no such thing. He smiled at me, said, “Don’t worry, this happens with everyone.”

He then walked away, but instead of returning to his room, Tarun ran to the beach and started walking with Menka. He gave her a cream bottle that he apparently was gone to fetch. It’s strange how normally they were conversing with each other despite being strangers.

I didn’t hear what they were talking about, but I tried to interpret it based on their body language. At one point, Tarun smiled and took some cream from the bottle on his fingers and then gently placed his hand on her lower back. I was stunned to see how casually he was rubbing it.

His fingers were weirdly close to her butt-crack. After rubbing there for a while, his hand started moving up. Unfortunately for him, her top was in the way. Here I need to tell you the flowery top Menka was wearing was nearly backless except for a dozen tied strings to keep the top in place.

They exchanged a few words, and then suddenly he started untying those strings one by one. I felt so embarrassed that I looked to ensure that Mr. Thakur was not around. “What would he think if he sees his wife flirting with a man half of his age? He will be…”

I stopped talking to myself when I realized that Mr. Thakur is no saint. Earlier this morning, he was fucking another woman, and apparently, Mrs. Thakur is fine with it. I don’t know what’s worse – having sex with a stranger indoors or intimately flirting with a stranger outdoors.

With every passing minute, my curiosity was building. Tarun was down to untying the last string. “Once that becomes loose, she will be topless,” I spoke out of embarrassment. I felt as if this young man was undressing me.

Just before Menka’s blouse was about to fall off, she crossed her arms to keep the top in place. It was awkward for me to watch, yet they casually walked the shoreline. Tarun rubbed his hand from the base of Menka’s neck down to close to her slightly visible butt-crack.

Every time his hand went down there, Menka held her breath, hoping he would not go down any further. I could see from the distance that Tarun was having a difficult time holding back. Walking a step behind her while they continued with their conversation.

This young hormonal guy was staring at her big juicy butt. I’m pretty sure he was waiting for the right moment to slip his hand on her ass.

At one point, he did. Realizing what just happened, Menka pulled his hand out, shouting, “Okay! That’s enough.” This time I heard her. It was getting dark. So I am not sure. But in that millisecond when Menka moved her hand away from her breasts, I am sure I caught a glimpse of her brown erect nipple.

Okay, I’ll admit, at that moment, I had a naughty thought of latching onto her tit and suck until milk comes out. Seeing Menka come towards me, I quietly walked away from there as if I saw nothing. It was a close call, but I wasn’t done investigating.

To be continued.

The next part is already written and should be posted soon. If you still want to say something, you can email me at [email protected]. You can read my other story here as well.