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"Open the trunk," I said to Phil. The lid popped up right when I reached the trunk. Inside it lay four large suitcases and one smaller case. Who brought this much clothes to a naturist resort? Maybe she had a shoe fetish and brought her entire collection. I hefted the suitcases out of the trunk and set them down alongside the driveway. Shutting the door, I called to Phil, "Thanks, man. See you next time."
Phil backed up and turned around, waving as he headed off down the driveway.
I waved back. Picking up two of the large suitcases, I stifled a grunt. Damn, these things weighed a ton each. I'd have to come back for the rest.
"Follow me," I said and started lugging the bags toward the guest house.
Mara Severins toddled after me, her high heels making it harder for her to walk across the gravel drive and the dirt path to the guest house.
I slowed down to let her catch up. "Might be easier if you take off your shoes."
"Right." She smiled shyly and removed her shoes, carrying one in each hand. "I'm not used to the outdoors since I live in Philadelphia, but that's why I came here. To commune with nature or whatever."
"You can definitely do that here."
When we reached the guest house door, she held it open for me.
"Sorry, that's supposed to be my job," I said, lugging the suitcases across the threshold.
"My fault. I overpacked. Always do."
The door shut behind us.
She pulled in a deep breath, her eyelids sliding half shut, and blew out the breath she'd held. "Mmm, I smell food. Haven't eaten since I left Philly early this morning."
"The other guests are having lunch. Why don't you join them while I take your things upstairs? They're nice people, and they love meeting new guests."
"You don't mind? I mean, I'm leaving you to carry my bags. I know they're heavy."
"It's my job." I nodded toward the door a dozen feet down the hall. "Dining hall's in there. Go on, have fun."
She smiled, and her cheeks dimpled. "Thank you, Oliver."
I readjusted the load I was carrying, unable to stop myself from admiring her backside while she trotted toward the dining hall door. She had a great ass.
Mara swerved into the dining hall.
And screamed.
I dropped the suitcases and bolted to the doorway.
Mara had stopped a few inches inside. Her shoes lay on the floor where she must've dropped them. Her mouth gaped, and her eyes bulged.
The other guests stared at her but seemed more confused than scared.
She stammered wordlessly before she managed to squeak out, "W-what is this place?"
I came up alongside her, touching her arm. "What's wrong? Are you having an epileptic seizure or something? I can take you to the hospital if—"
"No, I'm not having a seizure." Her voice sounded breathy. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned toward me. "Why is everyone naked?"
"Oh. Yeah, that. I know at some naturist resorts the guests dress for meals, but here we have a less formal way of doing things." I studied her face, which she had scrunched up tight. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Fine. Yes." The syllables were clipped. She pried her lids apart to look at me. "Why would birdwatchers eat in the nude?"
"Birdwatchers? Some of our guests enjoy doing that, but what's clothing got to do with it?"
"Everyone is naked."
