It’s only been a day since you’ve arrived at the resort, and you’re still taking it all in. The natural beauty of the tropical beach, the opulent room you’re staying in, the amazing service, the gorgeous people all around you… it’s all seemed too good to be true so far. You already feel as though you’re at home, and you don’t really want to leave. You’re wandering the beach, hearing the waves lap at the shore, breathing in the salty air and not really minding if you get a bit of a burn. It’s just too perfect…

“Heya!” A feminine voice calls out to you from not too far away. You look to see a peach-furred squirrel girl, dressed in a white tee shirt with pink sleeves, and hot pants to match, waving at you from a little sheltered bar shack. “You’re gonna get burned if you stay out there too much longer! Want a drink? On me!”

You become aware of the fact that you’re practically roasting in this heat, and quickly find yourself in the cool shade of the shack, as she mixes up a brightly colored, sweet-smelling beverage for you. You watch as she works away, mixing the various juices and syrups into a nice froth.

“You look like you’re new here… I can tell, you look like you’re in heaven. Yeah, the first few days are amazing, then you settle into a nice rhythm. How long’re you here for?”
You tell her ‘a week’.
“Perfect length. You’re gonna end up leaving just before you get bored. By the way, do you drink?”
As she asks this, she pours what looks to be at least 2 shots of tequila into your drink and shakes it up with a wry smile. “You do now, anyway~”

As you slowly sip the beverage over the next half hour, you make conversation with the girl . Her name’s Maybell, she’s been living here for about 4 years, working solidly. It doesn’t feel like a job to her, not really, thanks to the weather and all the interesting people she meets. Like you, she’s quite quick to add.
At some point – you don’t notice when – she has moved out from behind the bar and sat in a stool next to you. And… oh, her pants are gone, a bright pink thong clinging to her shapely rump. She sits in the stool, her legs uncrossed as she faces you, her red eyes seeming to dare you to sneak a glance down there. She’s talking nonchalantly, something about the kinds of drinks she makes, but she knows you’re not listening as she slips her fingers underneath the strap and slooowly peels her thong downwards.
“Can I get you anything else?” she coos, reaching behind the counter and taking a popsicle out, unwrapping it. “You’ll love these, we make them here. They’re… orgasmic.” she giggles filthily. “I sound like I’m in a porno, hah… not that you mind of course..”

She slips the wooden stick of the popsicle into her mouth, pouting her lips slightly. The popsicle wiggles unsteadily, awkwardly, as she leans towards you. She speaks, very carefully so as not to let the popsicle fall and go to waste.
“Wanna bite?”