Spring break in the Bahamas was supposed to be a wonderful time for Jenny and her two friends.

She'd bought her tickets from Atlanta with two girlfriends from college. After an interminable time on three airplanes (one, an atrocious old DeHavilland propjet operated by BahamasAir), the three girls landed in Nassau.

An overpriced cab ride to the hotel-district later, the three were unpacking in their room, and had already "flipped" for the order in which they'd take a quick shower. Jenny, the oldest, was already twenty-one (not that any drinking age really mattered in the laid-back bar scene in Nassau), and had regaled her friends about the last two years - Jenny was an old hand, in college terms, at travel in the Caribbean.

"The guys are all cute here," she said. "My boyfriend never wants me to come to Nassau - he's afraid I'll run away with someone." Lisa and her friend, Carlee, both nineteen, giggled.

"Not to say I wouldn't get laid here," she continued, "but the thing to do here is swim, shop, and PARTY!" The other two started laughing with Jenny; they anticipated a grand time. Lisa, who'd won the first shower, stopped for a moment to admire herself in the bathroom mirror.

The seafoam-green haltertop worked overtime to conceal her D- sized breasts - very real, and in Jenny's opinion, her best attribute, aside from her brilliant green eyes and blonde hair. Like a lot of young women, she thought her hips too big.

"Can't have everything", she said to herself.

"Huh"?, said Jenny, confused. "Did'ja say something, Lisa?"

"No. Just talking to myself. Be out in a minute."

In turn, the girls showered, primped, and readied for an afternoon and evening of partying. Spring in the Bahamas is warm, but the water is usually too cold for anything but the hardiest swimmers by 4:00PM; Lisa and her friends had decided unanimously to party tonight, and swim tomorrow.

Later that afternoon, they were already drinking and taking turns on a batch of "Caribbean wings" at a café not far from the hotel. Lacking the fundage for hard liquor, the drink of the afternoon (and evening) was beer. The waiter, a young local with a thick Caribbean accent, came by to check on them.

Carlee, the third (and youngest) of the group, was also possessed of large breasts and round hips - and was the undisputed tramp of the three, while managing to maintain a reasonable reputation. She locked eyes with the waiter, and began to think....

"You girls be goin' to the booze cruise?"

More giggles. "What's that?", said Lisa, by this time feeling the effect of four beers.

"Be goin' on down at the docks", the waiter said, nodding in the general direction of town. "Get'cherself a ride from da bus - it be outside ever' ten minutes or so." He walked off, after collecting the check.

Carlee said, "you know what they say about a guy's hands -", not finishing the sentence, and wondering whether the waiter would be available.

"Oh, just look at him, Carlee", Jenny said. "He probably gets more 'tail' than a toilet seat!"

"Gross!", Lisa and Carlee both said, half giggling. They were definitely ready to party.

Out at the bus stop, they soaked the warm, damp late-afternoon air of Nassau, and stood thinking that this was the finest time they'd ever had together.

"Carlee?", said Lisa, half turning to her.

"Yeah?", said Carlee, watching a hummingbird at a flower in the median-garden near the bus stop, half to herself, and half to Lisa.

"You horny?" Jenny and Lisa giggled. "We are!", Lisa half- shouted, as they both grabbed Carlee and tickled her.

"Stop it!, said Carlee. "I was just looking at him!", referring to the waiter.

"Well, here he comes, hon!", said Lisa, nodding over her shoulder.

The waiter was walking across the street.

"Hullo, ladies!", he said. Carlee looked mortified.

"Oh, God! He's really coming!", said Carlee. "Not yet!", laughed Jenny, with Lisa joining in. "What am I gonna DO?!?", said Carlee. In spite of her talk, she'd never been with a black man, and this was pushing the edge of her experiential envelope.

"Go with it, hon", said Jen. "Don't knock it 'till you've tried it!" Jen and Lisa moved to one side to give Carlee a little privacy to work her charm....

Carlee found out quickly that his name was James, he lived on Blue Hill Road outside of town, and rode the bus to the café every morning. She also learned that he would be a lot more comfortable if he didn't have to take the bus home that night.....

Within five minutes, Carlee and James were walking back to the café to get to know each other a lot better. This was facilitated by Jenny, who slipped her the key to their room.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't!", Jen whispered to Carlee. Carlee winked....

Turning to each other, Jen said to Lisa, "Looks like it's just us, hon!"

"Yeppers!", said Lisa. "And here comes the bus!"

The bus, a noxious old Mitsubishi that had seen better days, rocked and jerked the three or four miles into downtown Nassau. As they left, they asked for directions to the dock. "One block right behind you, girls," the driver said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. "Have fun!"

Jen and Lisa giggled. They'd already bought tickets to the cruise at the café, and were ready to go.

Boarding the boat (more of a flat-bottomed barge than a real boat, brightly painted with two levels and plenty of seats), they went upstairs and ordered a couple of Cuba Libres.

"Should we mix hard liquor and beer?", said Lisa. "Doesn't matter, hon. It's like college. We'll have fun - we'll just feel rotten until noon tomorrow!," said Jenny, watching the harbor recede behind them.

"I'm the king of the world!", shouted Lisa, with her arms outspread as she leaned against the rail. "Woo-hoo!" Jenny shook her head, and knocked back her rum and coke, heading to the bar for another. She also used a drink coupon to buy another for Lisa.

Fifteen minutes later, they were between one of the outer islands and the main island of New Providence. The evening breeze had come up, adding a little chop to the water - excellent sailing weather, but Jenny and Lisa weren't in a sailboat.

Jenny came back with two more drinks. "I am SO fucked up!", said Jenny. "Woo-hoo!", she shouted, to no one in particular. She handed the drink to Lisa, and noticed that her palms were wet. Lisa took the drink, not really seeming to care.

"You all right, hon?", Jenny said, looking at her friend.

Lisa was pale. Her knees were weak, and she was trying to focus on the horizon. Deep breaths. Stay calm....

"God, I'm sick, Jen.", she said, hating to even admit it.

"Let's get you to the bathroom," Jenny said, putting her drink on the seat behind them. They turned, and moved slowly for the stairwell.

The boat was full of people, most of them having a good time; some looking bored. All of them were milling around. The smell of perfume and the occasional cigar was heavy in the air.

Jenny helped Lisa to the stair. As the boat moved, Lisa sometimes stumbled. She caught herself on the stair rail, and took a step. "You're more fucked up that I am, Lisa!", Jenny said. Lisa responded by taking a deep breath, and closing her eyes. Opening them, she took four more quick steps, then the last one to the deck below. Looking up, she noticed a line of four women for the bathroom.

"Oh, God!", Lisa moaned, and turned to Jenny. "Let's go back upstairs. The air's better there." The smell of the bathroom hit them both when the door opened. Lisa gulped. Jenny turned Lisa to the stair, and helped her up the steps to the upper deck, then to their chairs.

"Would it help if you sat?", said Jenny. "Maybe," said Lisa, sweating now. Jenny was feeling vaguely ill, herself.....

Carlee, by this time, was sore.

She'd taken James back to their room after five drinks, and learned that what she'd heard was true. When James pulled his shorts down after getting Carlee to remove her bra and already- wet panties, she saw the largest penis in her actually-limited experience - a full nine inches, and getting longer as he rose. What she couldn't take her eyes from were his balls - they were huge!

Next, she got what she couldn't believe - instead of being mounted, James performed (as he called it) "the ol' licky-boom- boom" - using what proved to be a very talented tongue on Carlee's clit until she came twice in rapid succession, bucking her hips to his face and hoping it wouldn't end. Then, he mounted her and entered her with what had now become a 10" penis. In spite of his size, Carlee continued to buck like a wild woman, slapping his large balls with her labia and taking him deep, occasionally and with the delicious pleasure/pain of tapping her cervix with the stiff head that was now as far inside her as possible.

She came again, and dropped her arched back down to the bed, sweating. It was then that she realized he hadn't cum.....

Lisa was sick. She knew it. She was salivating, pale and sweating (she was even lubricating nervously, and hoping it wouldn't show through her thin shorts). Jenny was by now rather green herself, and holding Lisa's shoulders.

A man walked up to them. He was balding, with a beard - an Ernest Hemingway type, with a camera on his shoulder and a Panama-Jack hat. "You girls all right?", he said.

"We're fine!", Jenny snapped over her shoulder. Lisa, by this time, was breathing hard, pale and shaking, her large breasts heaving in her halter top.

"Well, you might be, but your friend's not.", the man said, handing Jenny an unopened 7-Up. "For afterwards.", he said. "She's going to need it.", nodding to Lisa.

The matter of fact statement by a total stranger that Lisa was going to vomit was the last straw in a chain of physiological reactions that pushed Lisa over the edge. She gagged.

As the man watched, Jenny said, "Oh, God, Lisa! What do I do?" Almost terrified, Jenny, who had been holding her shoulders, stepped back. In spite of Jenny being an "old hand", and having lost her share of lunches on her own, she didn't know how to care for someone else in this position. It had never happened to her before.

The man stepped to Lisa's other side, and quickly swept her shoulder-length hair across her back and into his other hand, holding it away from her face. "Just lean over; it'll be all right.", he said.

Lisa didn't need much encouragement. She gagged again; then a second time, her body convulsing and her abs seeming to shrink as her stomach was drawn up this time by her diaphragm. Lisa moaned a little, mewling and getting teary.

Jenny was, by this time, transfixed, starting to get a bit sick herself, and horrified.

Lisa gagged for a fourth time, this time with her mouth open, leaning instinctively over the rail. Jenny's heart was pounding; the man holding Lisa's hair turned over his shoulder and said, "Her knees are weak - come here and hold her!" Jenny obeyed, moving to hold her friend's shoulders.

By this time Lisa was bent over and standing into the rail, instinctively getting as far over as she could. She gagged twice more in rapid succession, almost rhythmically, then a third time, producing a clotted stream of rather curdled, chunky vomit which left her mouth and landed, almost comically, on her sandaled foot, providing a surreal juxtaposition to the nail polish she'd applied so carefully before her shower....

Carlee was now not only sore, but sick.

James had pulled her off the bed - naked; wet between her legs and feeling weak; she'd fallen quite naturally to her knees, looking up to see James' huge penis pointing at her mouth.

Being drunk, Carlee thought she was invincible. She loved the half-numb/half-sore feeling of her swollen labia, and the delightful afterglow-tingle of her equally-swollen clit; she responded by opening her knees on the carpet so she was balanced, using her 'glutes' to adjust her hips on her heels, and put her hands on his thighs.

She took his head first into her mouth, using her tongue as her boyfriend had taught her on the underside of his throbbing head, where the nerves were most sensitive. She looked up and saw his face, mouth open, eyes closed, gently moving his hips, but not taking advantage. "Someone trained him right," Carlee thought, and giggled a little, as she moved more of his now-throbbing penis into her mouth.

She began to fellate his organ as her boyfriend had taught her - pressure from her tongue on the underside of the head; two strokes per second, and count the time - using this, she pushed the shaft up against her upper teeth just slightly, giving James yet another sensation to consider. She took his penis deeper, then reached under it with her right hand to take his huge balls in her hand, gently moving her fingers to heighten his pleasure.

Half of his penis was in her mouth by this time, and she could taste his precum in her mouth - thick and musky; more so than her boyfriend's, but still exotic and arousing. She was still lubricating; she could feel the thick lovehoney running slowly down her leg.

James began to move his hips more, as he was very ready to come. Carlee responded in kind, taking his penis deeper until the head was at the back of her throat; she began breathing rhythmically, as her earlier experience had taught her - she hadn't ever tried to accommodate a penis this large before, though, and James was huge!

She realized quickly that she wasn't moving her head anymore. She brought her hand away from James' balls, and put it on his thigh again to brace herself, but his powerful thrusts were pushing the head back to the soft back of her throat. She'd had enough oral experience to control most of her gag reflex, but in opening her eyes, she saw that she'd have to try what her boyfriend had asked her to do once - take the head in her throat, if she was going to do this right.

"Time to be a slut,", she thought, and relaxed her throat. James' penis was at its full 10" aroused length, and over 7" around at the head. Carlee opened her throat, squeezed James' thighs, and leaned into him.

James' penis pushed not down into her throat, but up into her soft palate, because Carlee didn't yet know the one thing that most blowjob queens and prostitutes on Bay Street in Nassau knew from age fifteen: To keep your lunch, you have to lean your head forward, because an erect penis curves upward. Carlee gagged, hard.

She tried to get away, but her now-salivating mouth was open, and James was already thrusting again. In trying to move away from him, she pulled her head back, with the effect that his next thrust pushed deep in her mouth and against her soft palate, opening her throat involuntarily.

Carlee closed her mouth and gagged again, blowing a large amount of saliva out and on James crotch and on her own chin. With his penis on the outstroke, James began to come.

He was already thrusting again. Carlee then learned something about men with well developed reproductive systems - their ejaculatory capacity.

Her mouth filled with live, thick, cream from the head of James' bucking penis. She tried to gasp, but he was already half-out of her mouth, still spouting semen, and then thrusting back to her throat. Carlee gulped, swallowing a half-mouthful of his cum.

"Fuck!", she thought, "Eric NEVER did this!" She was trying to breathe; her mouth was coated inside with thick, musky ejaculate. Due to his thrusting, her mouth and chin were covered with the stuff, and when she opened her eyes, all she could see was the movement of his cream-covered swollen penis and his crotch, either moving away, or coming toward her, causing her eyes to lose focus.

Carlee gagged again, as James spent the last of his load - almost two full tablespoons full of semen - in Carlee's mouth. He bucked his hips twice more to finish himself, then pulled his now-shrinking organ from Carlee's mouth and lips.

Carlee's face was covered in semen. All she could smell was James' cum; on her face, in her nose, on her chin - the sour smell of saliva was now present also, and she gagged again, this time harder; she instinctively pursed her lips, but a snotty string of James' cum was forced out, onto her chin and draining in a large clot onto her large, heaving breasts.

She swallowed; then again, and gagged twice in succession. James pulled her hair back. "I'm sorry, hon!", he said. "You're not doin' this much, then?"

"No shit.", she thought, her stomach rising.....

Lisa retched.

The sight of her stomach contents (this had belonged to HER, and she was losing it - the embarrassment of it all, and the thought of having NO control was a double humiliation) meant that she had lost whatever chance she had of maintaining any dignity. What was that one of her history professors had said? The Romans would never vomit in public? It was undignified, or something. God....

This all went through her head in the fraction of a second before her diaphragm "flipped" again, drawing her stomach up and her abs squeezing it from below. The valve in her esophagus opened, and Lisa made a sick noise in her thoat...

"Upchuck," thought Carlee.

"That's what Momma called it. Upchuck. The word was nauseating to Carlee; every time she heard it as a little girl, she was already nauseous; her mother would ask her, "Honey, how are you? You don't look well; are you feelin' like you want to upchuck, hon?" The oversolicitude of Southern mothers was legend, but remembering the word was almost enough - especially in her current condition: naked, on her knees, mouth coated in a strange man's fluid....

Carlee gagged again; this time she was salivating profusely; James was already holding her hair back and making no effort to get her to the bathroom - there wasn't any time, and he knew it. She was naked, on her knees; her face covered in cum. "Eric will never know about this," she vowed to herself, as James held her hair with one hand and rubbed her shoulder with another.

Carlee's stomach-muscles contracted at the same time her diaphragm heaved a bit. "Maybe it's only the hiccups," she thought, as she swallowed hard. She 'hiccuped' again. What she didn't know what that her stomach was, as her Atlanta-born mother would've said, 'kecking' - the rhythmic pumping that drew her stomach higher and prepared her esophagus.

Carlee 'hiccuped' several more times - twice each second, then once a second as the kecks turned into retches. Carlee felt very full - what she didn't know was that her body had worked very well - her upper intestine had moved most of its upper/liquid contents into her stomach, and that was being drawn with each retch up with her diaphragm.

"We'll have to get another room", she thought, as she gag/retched one more time....

Lisa's mouth was open; she was leaning over the rail as she felt her stomach-contents rushing up her now-shortened esophagus. Thick, clotted vomit flooded her mouth, and poured down, clearing the deck and the deck below, splattering in the water. Her mouth was open, and the volume of beer, rum, and food pushed her lips out and her mouth even wider as she spewed the first of her day's consumption.

The man held her hair. "Go ahead, shoot the works!", he said. Lisa's stomach began to settle back, and she thought for a moment that she might be done. As the flow of upchuck drained from her mouth, the last of it splattered the deck and her feet.

Seeing her feet covered in upchuck triggered another wave of nausea. Her stomach rose, and this time her mouth was already open; her head already in position. She was ready.

Lisa retched again, her large breasts bouncing provocatively in her blouse; her cleavage covered with the sweat-sheen that she knew covered her whole body. Another huge stream of clotted, chunky, redolent upchuck poured from her mouth again. A breeze caught the stream this time, blowing it along the side of the ship in a constellation of vomit.

As her stomach started to relax, the wind shifted and the last of the stream blew onto Lisa's legs and feet. She was covered from the knees down in steaming, reeking vomit. Her reaction was to retch again, this time bringing up a small stream of mostly-liquid. She had been trying to straighten up; the result was that while most of it went over the side, the last half-cup splattered her chin and the top of her blouse, soaking through and exposing her large breasts and showing off her erect nipples.

"She's done," the man said. "Better get her below and clean her up."

Jenny wasn't moving. She had already hit the rail, having fought her own fight and lost. The man moved behind her. "Going to lose it?", he said. Lisa sat down, breathing hard and covered in reeking vomit. She didn't care.

"Yes.", said Jenny, very matter of fact. "Hold my hair," she said. The man did so with one hand; the other bracing her shoulders.

"My name's Will", he said.

Jenny gulped. "Jenny.", she managed to say. She bent over the rail, and gagged hard.

Jenny wasn't like Lisa. Drinking - and losing it - was a normal thing on a weekend for her during the first two years of college. "I know how to vomit, unlike Lisa.", she thought, just before her own stomach rose. "Open my mouth, and lean against the rail with my abs. Pressure does the rest," she thought.

She did. The result was one quick, hard retch, followed by a rush of liquid into her mouth. Jenny responded by leaning farther, pressing her lower abdomen into the rail so her stomach wouldn't relax as quickly. She wanted this over with.

Will stood behind her, his crotch rather involuntarily pressing into Jenny's buttocks. Jen stood, hands well apart on the rail, feet apart at shoulder-width; pressed into the rail with her head well over the side. Will held her long hair back with one hand; with the other he rubbed her back.

"That's how you do it, I suppose," Jen thought, as she watched the thick vomit leave her mouth and pour into the ocean. "Rub the other person's back while you hold their hair." Jen continued to vomit; one long, single retch, helped by the pressure of her abdomen on the rail. "That's it," she thought. "Puke 'till I'm done, then catch my breath."

Jen vomited for over twenty seconds - it seemed like an eternity, but as it drained away and subsided, her stomach began to settle, and she moved from the rail. She didn't retch again.

Will handed her a napkin from his photographer's vest. "Here. Can I get you a 7-Up?"

"Yes," replied Jenny. "That'd be nice." She locked eyes with him, wondering if what everyone said about older men was true....

Carlee was still considering the room reservations when her whole body convulsed with the last retch, and it seemed as if her whole insides were moving into her now-open mouth. She saw some cream-and-yellow, rather curdled stuff leave her mouth and hit the floor between her knees. "Oh, God!", she thought. "I don't want to do this!"

She retched again; involuntarily, Carlee's salivating mouth was now open wide; her head bent over facing the carpet; James held her head with one large hand and her hair with the other. Carlee's stomach poured a cup of thick vomit from her mouth, she fought to keep the rest in her stomach.

The next retch filled first her esophagus, then her mouth, with thick, creamy vomit. Carlee opened her mouth instinctively, and fountained a thick, reeking stream of chunky vomit on the floor, splattering her knees and thighs. She gulped, choked, gagged, and retched again, this time violently spewing a thick torrent of soupy upchuck which rapidly formed a lake between her knees.

Draining, Carlee knew thought she was through. Her body responded with another convulsion of stomach-muscles and diaphragm, renewing the torrent - she watched in horrid facination as the thick, chunky contents of her stomach poured on top of what she'd already vomited; it clung together, forcing the lake to grow bigger as the thickened, chunky mess gradually yielded to the torrent pouring from above.

After what seemed like eternity, she was done. For a moment, she stared, transfixed, at the slowly spreading ocean of vomit which lapped up against her knees, hot and steaming, foaming and moving.

She retched again, this time bringing up a little slime and mucous, which clung to her chin. "Don't look at it," she thought. Leaning up, the mucous drooled from her chin to her cleavage.

She leaned up, pale and shaking, a clot of vomit on the inside of her left breast, and stomach-mucous running down toward her navel.

James said, "Hey, girl! Don' wanna leave ya' in da lurch, but I've got to be goin.' You take care o' yourself, hear?" Rather embarrassed, James headed for the door.

"Thanks," Carlee said. Weakly, she got to her feet, sat on the bed, and contemplated another shower before she left the room.....

"Wait here," Jen told Will. "I've got to look after Lisa." The boat was once again in sight of land; the cruise was almost over, and Lisa found it much easier to navigate the stairs toward the ladies' room.

"Not much room for two in there, hon.", Jen told Lisa. "You gonna be all right?"

"Yeah. I'll strip, wash my clothes, and get off this thing. You two have a good time, all right? I'll see you back in the room," Lisa said, nodding toward the stairwell, and Will, waiting above. "Maybe.", Lisa thought. Jen, like she knew, was an old hand. "Probably won't see her again until the airport - and Jen'll be walking funny, if I know her...."

Jen walked back upstairs. "Your friend going to be all right?", Will said.

"Yeah.", replied Jen. "She'll clean up, and get a bus back to the room. " Thinking about Carlee, she added, "Maybe I should have Lisa call the hotel."

"Why?", said Will. "We left a friend there. She's - occupied."

"Ah.", said Will. We can call her from the hotel where I'm staying, if that's all right. You feeling O.K., yourself?"

"Yeah. Fine. Thanks for the help.", said Jen. She slipped a hand into his. The boat was docking, and Jen, the "old hand", was charting another course entirely....