The Harbor family had arrived at True Tide under cover of darkness, their luxury sedan winding up the coastal cliff road with the Pacific crashing somewhere below. By the time they'd reached the lobby Jacob was stiff from the drive. But he helped his wife, Sylvia, unload the car and their two kids scrambled out of the back. 

One last trip before they went back to their colleges across the country.

The young man at check-in had been disarmingly handsome. He'd smiled at each of them in turn, his eyes lingering on Jenna's athletic figure, and on Sylvia's still-slender waist. He'd handed them keycards and a heavy cream-colored pamphlet embossed with the True Tide wave logo.

"We recommend the Puritan for breakfast on your first morning," he'd said. "It's an excellent way to ease into things around here. Especially for late check ins."

Jacob had nodded, relieved. He'd researched True Tide extensively before booking, but the online reviews had been maddeningly vague about the resort's "unique approach" to relaxation. But tomorrow morning, they'd find out what they were really in for.

The next morning, light soaked the seventh floor dining room. The sun rose on the other side of the building, but the light played off the ocean that lay outside the windows beautifully. Puritan's was decorated just as its name would suggest: white tablecloths, crystal glasses, waitstaff in full sets of clothes that would have looked out of place anywhere else in the resort. The music here was different too: classical, subdued. But the same suggestions still whispered inside it, urging the listeners to relax and go with the flow.

Nothing here is wrong. Nothing here is immoral.

Sylvia Harbor smoothed her navy blue dress over her knees and examined the menu with the practiced concentration of a woman who had spent thirty-nine years controlling every aspect of her environment. She was still attractive: blonde hair maintained through expensive salon visits, face preserved through restraint and good skincare. She looked across the table at her husband.

Jacob was staring at the ocean view, his jaw tight. Forty-two years old, silver threading his temples, his navy blazer straining slightly across shoulders that had softened since his college rowing days. They had been married twenty years. They had not fucked in three months.

"Martin and Jenna decided to explore," Sylvia said, snapping her menu shut. "The girl at the front desk said there's a garden maze. They wanted to see it before breakfast."

Jacob grunted. "Probably for the best. Let them burn off some energy. God knows Martin's been sullen since we left the city."

"He's twenty," Sylvia said, though she wasn't certain if she was defending her son or explaining him. "Twenty-year-old boys are sullen. It's their natural state."

A waiter appeared. "May I start you with beverages? Our signature mimosas are quite popular. Fresh-squeezed orange juice, premium champagne, and our house... enhancement blend."

Sylvia opened her mouth to decline. She rarely drank before noon, and never champagne. Too many calories. But before she could speak, another couple was sitting down at the adjacent table, each already holding a mimosa, and she became distracted.

The woman was beautiful in an almost cartoonish way: dark hair, full lips, enormous breasts that strained against a white sundress that looked like it had been thrown on moments before. The man beside her, by contrast, looked… exhausted.

"Oh, thank god," he said, collapsing into the chair across from Sylvia. "Puritan's. I forgot about Puritan's. Thank god."

He slumped beside her. "We can get back to fun and sun soon, Dina. But after last night I really, really need a break from the…"

He glanced over at Jacob and Sylvia and cleared his throat.

"A break from the normal itinerary."

"Normal," Dina repeated, and laughed, a rich, throaty sound that made Sylvia's stomach tighten in an unfamiliar way. "Right. Normal."

Sylvia watched the husband knock back the glass of champagne and orange juice and felt suddenly like it might not be the worst idea to cut loose a bit.

"You should try one," the woman named Dina said to her, noticing her watching. "They're amazing. The resort's special recipe."

"We don't really drink this early," Jacob said.

"First morning?" Greg asked.

"Yes," Sylvia admitted. "We just arrived last night."

"Then you definitely need the mimosas." Dina leaned forward, her breasts pressing against the table's edge, the sundress gaping to reveal the valley between them. "Best to get a little loose before everything else. But the acclimation works better with the drinks. Trust us."

"Greg," the man offered, extending his hand to Jacob. "We're practically veterans now. Four days. Feels like four years."

And before Sylvia could protest, Greg had ordered four mimosas. 

"My treat. Welcome to True Tide."

The first sip was heaven. Sylvia had never tasted champagne so crisp, orange juice so bright and alive. There was something else too; a warmth that spread immediately from her throat to her stomach, then lower, blooming between her legs.

"Oh," she breathed, setting the glass down. "That's... that's quite something."

Jacob had finished his in three gulps. He was staring at Dina's chest. Sylvia watched him do it. Watched her husband of twenty years, the man who had not touched her in months, openly ogling another woman's breasts. She should have been angry. She should have been humiliated.

Instead, she felt her own nipples harden beneath her bra.

"You're staring," Dina said to Jacob, but not unkindly. Almost... encouragingly. "It's okay. Everyone stares. They're hard to miss these days."

Jacob blushed furiously and looked away guiltily.

Sylvia looked. Really looked. Dina's breasts were indeed magnificent: full and heavy and somehow obscene even covered by the thin sundress, the nipples visible as hard peaks. Sylvia imagined touching them. Imagined her husband touching them.

The thought should have horrified her.

"Yes," Sylvia heard herself say. "They're beautiful."

Dina smiled, slow and knowing. "You should see Greg's cock. It's beautiful too. Not as big as some I've had here. God you should see the fucking spin instructor. But he knows how to use it. Don't you, baby?"

"More mimosas," Jacob said, his voice cracking awkwardly as he called to a passing waiter who was definitely not theirs. "Please. We need more."

By the third round, the two couples had moved their tables together and were chatting freely and amicably about things that neither of them thought particularly strange. At least not anymore.

"I've always wanted to cheat on her," Jacob said, his hand finding Sylvia's under the table, squeezing hard. "To know that she was somewhere waiting for me while I was off with someone else."

"Jacob!" Sylvia gasped, but the protest was weak and automatic.

"It's true," he insisted, turning to her, his eyes glassy with champagne and whatever else swam in the golden liquid. "You're so wonderful, Sylvia, and I love you so much. But look at what else is out there!"

He gestured wildly as Dina's deep cleavage and obvious nipples.

"How can you blame me?"

Dina leaned across the table, her breasts pressing against the white cloth, her hand reaching out to touch Sylvia's cheek. 

"It's okay Syl," Dina said, looking into the woman's increasingly hazy eyes. "Things are different here. Whatever feels good is good here. Accept the pleasure it can bring, and let Jacob accept it, too."

Sylvia nodded slowly.

"And you, Sylvia? What do you want? What do you need that you've been too good to ask for?"

Sylvia's mouth opened. Closed. The music swelled, penetrating her champagne-softened mind. 

"I want..." The words came from somewhere deep, somewhere Puritan. "I want to be bad. I want to stop being perfect. I want to be fucked. I want to be used like... like I'm not worth anything except... except..."

"Except your holes," Greg supplied gently. "Your ass. Your mouth. Your cunt."

"Yes," Sylvia whispered, and the relief of saying it, of admitting it, was better than any orgasm she'd given herself in the dark of their master bedroom, alone and ashamed.

They finished breakfast without eating much. The food sat cold, forgotten, as they drank more, as the talk grew filthier, as Greg described in explicit detail what he and Dina had done with the staff, with other guests, with each other. Jacob's cock was clearly visible in his trousers now as he listened to the way Greg had painted those women last night. The way that Dina had tried so hard to stuff her cunt on the bike. The sauna. The massage parlors. The garden.

The garden…

Something about the garden triggered apprehension in Jacob, though he couldn't quite put his finger on why. All the blood was in his cock and not his brain, or he might have remembered…

"Time to go," Dina announced, standing. Her sundress had ridden up, and Sylvia could see she wore no panties. She saw the wet mark on the seat, and she knew that she'd be leaving one, too.

They stood, the four of them, swaying slightly, drunk on chemicals and confession and the sudden, overwhelming permission to want.

As they emerged from Puritan's sanctuary into the hallway, the change in atmosphere was immediate. The music here was louder, heavier, the bass throbbing in time with Sylvia's pulse. A couple was fucking against the wall twenty feet away; the woman bent over, her dress around her waist, the man behind her grunting with each thrust, his hand covering her mouth to muffle her screams.

Sylvia should have been shocked. She wasn't. She was mostly wondering how she'd missing something like that one the way down. And wondering if they'd like a third.

Dina stopped in the center of the hallway. Turned to face them. And with a casualness that made Sylvia's knees weak, she pulled the straps of her sundress down, letting the fabric fall to her waist, baring her breasts completely.

They were even more magnificent uncovered: heavy and tan, nipples dark and erect, the skin marked with bites and bruises.

"Better," Dina sighed, cupping them, lifting them, presenting them. "Puritan's rules are so constraining. Don't you think?"

Jacob made a sound like an animal. Sylvia felt her own hand move to her chest, pressing against her own smaller breasts, feeling her heartbeat thundering.

"You can touch," Dina said softly. "If you want. Both of you. They're just tits. Just flesh. Just pleasure. It's all I'm for here."

Jacob moved first, his hand trembling as he reached out, as his fingers closed around Dina's left breast, squeezing, testing the weight. Dina moaned, arching into his touch, and Sylvia watched her husband handle another woman with a hunger she hadn't seen in decades.

Then Dina's eyes were on her. Inviting. Knowing. "You too, Sylvia. Come here. Feel what you've been missing."

Sylvia stepped forward. Her hand joined Jacob's, both of them touching, exploring, the warm weight of Dina's breast filling her palm. The nipple was hard against her thumb, and without thinking, Sylvia rolled it, pinched it, eliciting a gasp that went straight to her own empty cunt.

"Good," Dina encouraged. "You're a natural. Both of you. So hungry. So ready."

"You can suck," Greg said, his own cock now free of his linen pants, his hand stroking it slowly, casually, as if they were discussing the weather. "If you want. Dina loves having her tits sucked. Don't you, baby?"

"Love it," Dina confirmed, her head falling back against the wall, her breasts thrust forward in offering. "Even before we got here. It was my favorite. Suck me, Sylvia. Show your husband what you've been holding back. Show him how bad you can be."

Sylvia didn't hesitate. She leaned in, her mouth opening, and fastened her lips around Dina's nipple. The taste was salt and skin. She sucked hard, drawing the flesh deep, and Dina's hand came up to cradle her head, holding her there, encouraging her.

"Fuck," Jacob whispered, his hand finding his own cock through his trousers, rubbing desperately. "Fuck, Sylvia, look at you. Look at you sucking her…"

"Let's go to your room," Greg interrupted, his voice thick with command. "Now. Before you get too carried away."

Jacob's hand found Sylvia's, pulling her away from Dina's breast with a wet sound. "Yes. Yes, come with us. Please. We need... we need to..."

"To fuck," Dina finished, her breasts remaining exposed, bouncing with each step as they moved toward the elevators. "You need to fuck. You need to be fucked. You need to stop being a family and start being animals. That's what True Tide teaches. That's what we're going to show you."

The Harbor's room was a suite that occupied the northeast corner of the fifth floor, spacious and airy, with views of both the garden maze and the distant ocean. When they entered, Dina's breasts still out, Greg's cock still hard and visible, Jacob and Sylvia clinging to each other like drowning swimmers, the sound hit them first.

Wet. Flesh striking flesh. A woman's voice begging for more.

Harder.

Deeper.

"Please," Jenna was saying, her words punctuated by grunts and slaps. "Please, Martin, please, I need it! I need your cock! Please give me more, make me yours, make me your slut!"

They froze in the entryway. The living area was visible through an open archway, and the scene there was a punch to the gut, a violation of everything Sylvia had spent twenty years believing about her family.

Martin was behind his sister, both of them naked, both of them transformed. Jenna was on her hands and knees on the expensive rug, her athletic body covered in sweat, her face twisted in ecstasy. Martin was fucking her with a ferocity that made the furniture shake, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise, his face unrecognizable.

"Jenna," Sylvia whispered, her hand flying to her mouth. "Martin. Oh god. Oh my god."

Martin didn't stop. If anything, he fucked harder, his eyes finding his parents in the doorway, holding their gaze as he drove into his sister. "She's mine," he grunted, each word accompanied by a thrust. "I found her in the maze. I claimed her. She's mine now. My slut. My fucktoy."

"Don't stop!" Jenna wailed, pushing back against him, her breasts swinging, her face flushed and vacant. "I'm your whore! I'm your slut! I'm your fucktoy!"

Jacob made a choking sound, but his cock throbbed harder. Sylvia felt her knees buckle. This was wrong, this was monstrous.

"Shh," Dina was behind her, hands on Sylvia's shoulders, her breasts pressed against her back. "It's okay. It's natural. Look at them. Look how happy they are. Look how free."

Greg moved in front of them, blocking the view of their children rutting like animals, his hands finding Sylvia's face, turning her to look at him. "The resort brings out the things you want. It helps you make sense of it. Bodies fit together. Martin and Jenna discovered it first. Now it's your turn."

"Your children are fucking," Dina whispered in Jacob's ear, as Greg's hand slid down to cup Jacob's cock through his trousers. "And you're going to join them. You're going to make it a family affair. With us. Six bodies. One pleasure. No shame. No limits."

Jacob's resistance lasted perhaps three seconds. Then he was pulling off his shirt and shorts, letting his cock arc up, already leaking. Sylvia watched her husband abandon himself, and felt her own last restraint snap.

"Yes," she breathed, and Greg's mouth was on hers, his tongue invading, his hands tearing at her navy dress, stripping her of her perfection, her control, her identity as Mrs. Jacob Harbor, respectable wife and mother.

They moved into the living room as one writhing mass. Martin and Jenna didn't stop. If anything, the presence of their parents seemed to excite them further, Martin's thrusts becoming savage, Jenna's screams becoming operatic.

"On the couch," Greg commanded, and Jacob obeyed, sprawling onto the expensive upholstery, his cock finally free, thick and weeping and desperate. "Sylvia, suck him. Show him you're his whore now. His toy. Not his wife, but something less and something better."

Sylvia fell to her knees between her husband's legs. She had not given him head in years. She had found the act demeaning, messy, beneath her dignity. Now she took him into her mouth with a hunger that shocked them both, her tongue swirling, her throat opening, taking him deeper than she ever had before, when she was just his wife, when she was still trying to be good.

"Fuck, fuck, Sylvia," Jacob gasped, his hands finding her hair, guiding her, fucking her face. "Look at you. Look at you sucking my cock like a whore. Like Jenna. Like our daughter…"

Jenna's head turned at the sound of her name, her eyes finding her mother's, her mouth falling open in a scream as Martin hit some deep place inside her. "Yes, Mom!" she encouraged. "You're gonna be just as good a whore as me!"

But Greg was pulling Sylvia away, turning her, positioning her. "Not yet. Your parents need to learn that they aren't each others' only partners anymore. Jacob, Dina needs cock. She's been patient. Fuck her while your wife watches. Cheat on her like you've always wanted."

Dina was already on the couch beside Jacob, her legs spread, her cunt glistening and open and hungry. "Please," she whimpered, though her eyes were sharp, knowing, in control even in her submission. "Please fuck me, Jacob. I've been so patient. I've been so good. I'll be just a good little side piece for you. Fuck me like you never fuck her."

Jacob was on her immediately. He moved from beneath Sylvia, positioning himself between Dina's thighs, and drove into her with a force that made the couch skid an inch across across the floor. Dina's scream of pleasure was genuine, her legs wrapping around Jacob's waist, her nails scoring his back.

"Watch," Greg commanded Sylvia, holding her head, forcing her to witness her husband fucking another woman. "Watch him use her. Watch how much he needs this. How much he needs to stop being your husband and start being a fucking animal."

Sylvia watched, her hand between her own legs, her fingers finding her clit, rubbing desperately. She had never masturbated in front of anyone, had never even touched herself with the lights on. Now she was performing for her children, for these strangers, for herself.

For the camera in the corner of the room that she was pretending she hadn't noticed. 

"Now you," Greg said, and pushed her toward where Martin was still pounding Jenna. "Suck your son's balls while he fucks his sister."

It should have been impossible. It should have been unthinkable. But Sylvia was beyond thought, beyond identity, beyond the woman she had been this morning when she walked into Puritan's. Beyond even the woman she'd been when she'd walked out, eagerly sucking on that woman's impossible tits. From the moment she'd seen her son and daughter, she was reborn. She crawled to where Martin's body met Jenna's, found the heavy sac hanging below his driving cock, and took it into her mouth.

The taste was musk and sweat, and it was perfect. Martin groaned above her, his rhythm faltering, then resuming with renewed vigor. "Mom," he gasped. 

Jenna's cunt clamped down on Martin's shaft, her scream echoing off the high ceilings. Martin followed seconds later, his cock pulsing, his cum flooding his sister's pussy, marking her, claiming her as his.

He pulled out with a wet sound, and Sylvia found herself moving automatically, her mouth seeking the source, finding Jenna's used cunt, tasting her son's seed mixed with her daughter's arousal, lapping at the mess they had made, cleaning them with her tongue like a good mother, like a proper slut. Without being told. Without needing to be told. Without a second thought.

A single tear rolled down Sylvia's cheek as she felt her son's still-hard cock slide into her drenched pussy, taking the place of the hole that he'd been using that his mother had decided was hers to use now.

The afternoon dissolved into a blur of bodies. Combinations that would have been unthinkable in the world outside True Tide's walls. Greg face-fucked Sylvia while she knelt on the rug, his cock driving deep into her throat, his hands holding her head, using her like the toy she had become. Jacob discovered that he loved fucking Jenna's ass. Cheating on his wife with someone who looked so much like her. Martin wanted nothing more than to fuck Sylvia's modest tits and call her mommy. Dina poured melon drinks they'd ordered from the room service down the girls' throats.

Sylvia found herself taking her husband's cock in her mouth again and she tasted Dina. She tasted Jenna. And her eyes rolled back at the sensation. Three men's loads sat warm in her belly. The taste of two women's lips lingered on her own, even as they slid up and down her husband's shaft.

"I never want this to end," she heard Jacob say from somewhere above her. She looked up just in time to see their daughter lean in and kiss him hard.

"As long as you're here," Dina said as she bounced on Martin's cock, "It never has to."