Inside of it.I hear someone approach and try hard to remain perfectly still. It's him. Without having to open my eyes, I can feel that it is him, the ...god. My body trembles slightly as he lays down in the grass beside me. I turn my head towards him and marvel at his nakedness. Everything about him is oversized. He must truly be a god, and what kind of a woman would I be if I didn’t feel the urge to give him myself as a tribute?I turn my face away from him, a sign of complete submission, and lay. It was time to make use of the spa I had spotted on my earlier walk, tucked away in the corner of the upper deck, away from all the other pools and water activities. I rushed back to my spacious cabin and slipped into one of the many bikinis I had packed. A white, triangle top that barely covered my voluptuous D cup breasts and tiny bottoms that left very little to the imagination. Looking in the mirror I was pleased to see the tan I had been working on was even more bronzed against the white. Looking around by the fence, she spied a softball-sized rock that had adark stain on it. This would put him out whether it was wielded by a manor a woman, but it did not have any kind of mark or design like she hadseen on the back of his head. She mentally marked its location but didnot pick it up. The last thing she needed was to have the sheriff putthe blame on her because she could have been the one holding the 'bluntinstrument'.She could see the parallel lines across the grass where Pat. “He’s ... normal. I mean, he makes no bones about what his job is and how seriously he takes it.”“If you can do it without being obvious, look at his shoe,” Chris said.I gave my shoulder a good pop and looked downward for a moment. Then I looked questioningly at Chris.“Is that... ?” I asked.“A mirror,” he said.“That’s pretty fucked up,” I said. I had read stories about what guys with mirrors on their shoes were doing. They were used in public places to look up women’s skirts or dresses. Susan.