Chapter 2

The desert night was warm and still, and the stars overhead were bright and numerous, allowing Al Weathers to find his way around the spa easily, without using any light. The spa grounds were safe to walk around at night, a wall keeping out the desert snakes. Al was out for what he told Ms wife was, "A little fresh air." Actually, he wanted to be alone and think. He had a lot on his mind.

Harry and Mae Morgan were one of the many things on his mind. He stood in the shadow of a cactus and lit a cigarette, his eye on the steam house. Every night, while all the guests and staff sat down to dinner, Harry and Mae disappeared. One night, Al had left during dinner because he had left his cigarettes down by the pool. It was then that he had seen Mae entering the steam house after she had cautiously looked around. Another night, he doubled back to his cottage to get a sweater for Mona who had gotten a sudden chill, and he saw Harry slipping into the steam room in the same suspicious manner.

Al began to think about it and wonder what was. going on at night. At first he reasoned that a husband and wife wanted to be alone together, that it was one way for the owners of a spa to relax together. Yet, they were so furtive about it that it seemed almost as if they were up to something. The steam room was a building off by itself. After dinner, on the way back to the cottage, Al had decided to check it out; it was still in use, and the door was locked.

The young husband started walking again, deep in thought. There ought to be a way to see in the steam room from the outside. The idea of being a Peeping Tom both annoyed and excited him. It annoyed him to think that he might stoop to such a thing, and it excited him to think of what he might see. He knew ... with a gut instinct ... that the Morgans were up to something that they didn't want known. A strong hunch told him there were some pretty exciting things going on at Donnymead that he didn't know about. Besides, Mae Morgan was a living, breathing knockout who just oozed sex from every pore.

Sex was on Al's mind all the time these days. Newly married to one of the most voluptuous girls he had ever seen or known, he had found out ... on their wedding night ... that his wife was frigid. Cold! More than that, she was a prude. There was just no way around it ... the unbelievably beautiful Mona Weathers was a prude. They had been married six months, and he had never seen her completely naked except for one time.

Al didn't like to think of that one time. In a frustrated rage, he had gotten drunk and ripped her clothes from her sensually alluring body. The sight of his wife nakedly cowering in the corner like a frightened virgin had been too much. Her proudly upthrust breasts, her incredibly slim waist, ripely flaring hips, and long tapering thighs made him go mad with lust, and he had drunkenly lurched for her, lost his balance ... and fallen, knocking himself out. When he awoke, he found Mona gone and a note telling him she had gone back to mother.

It had taken a week to win her back, and she only came back on two conditions: number one was no more drinking; the second was ... they would have separate bedrooms! He gave in to Mona because he loved her and ... secretly ... he hoped that some of her inhibitions would evaporate in time.

He was driven mad by his wife. Such a delicious prize so near and yet so far. Other men looked at him after taking in Mona's face and figure, and their eyes clouded over with envy; they all figured he was getting one hell of a wild piece of ass. Yet, whenever he tried to caress her, Mona would grow cold and talk very formally. Gently, but firmly, she would remove his hands from her lush young body. And she would talk. God, how she would talk. "I believe there's more to marriage than just carnal pleasure, don't you?" she said once.

"Huh? Oh yeah, sure."

"I mean a man who doesn't treat his wife with respect doesn't think much of her, does he?"

"Right. Sure."

"I mean, you marry someone because you think they're special and to be treated well, don't you?"

"You bet."

"I mean there's so much to be gained from a meaningful and mature relationship, don't you think?"

"Oh sure."

"I mean that marriage is like a business, a partnership, don't you think?"

"Yeah."

She would be talking, yakking away and he knew she was going to lead up to his going to church with her, and all he could do was look at her voluptuously ripened figure under her dress and feel an aching in his balls and a rage in his mind. Such a great body going to waste! It couldn't be true, it couldn't happen to a hot-blooded guy like him, he simply couldn't have picked a cold fish! There had to be a way to reach her, a way to get to her. There simply had to be a way, all he had to do was find it!

And he had to find it fast because he was going crazy with lust! He was getting so horny that all he could think of from morning to night was sex. Sex seemed to be everywhere he looked.

It was certainly at the Donnymead spa! He could feel it; it was in the air. It was in those Goddamned twins that flounced all around the spa in the briefest of bikinis. He knew it! He had come up behind them while they were sunning themselves at the pool. Two identical stunning brunettes with wild figures and sensually pouting mouths. They were part of the Hollywood set with their husbands having something to do with television. He had come up behind them at the pool in time to hear Linda ... or was it Lila? ... say, "I tell you we balled all night." She had groaned and rubbed her firm young thighs together in memory and added, "Oh, baby ... it was wild!"

And Mona didn't like them. That was the clincher! If Mona didn't like them, that meant they were sexy. Mona wouldn't say much, but she felt they were cheap and flashy.

Al would put on his dark glasses, the kind that were one way, so that he could see out but people couldn't see his eyes, and he would sit down at the pool, staring at them with the horny idea of being married to one of them. They looked so much alike, he couldn't tell one from the other, and he imagined swapping identical wives or ... better still ... sleeping with both of them at the same time! Fucking both of them! At the same time-one on top of the other!

He liked the way they smiled at him. It was brazen and audacious. He watched Lila ... or Linda ... walk from the pool with the fleshy white cheeks to her seductively wiggling buttocks showing. Her bikini had gotten caught in the crevice of her ass cheeks and ridden up, exposing naked flesh that bounced and rocked as she ... Lila or Linda ... walked. Oh God! It was too much to watch.

Al Weathers was in a state of perpetual horniness. It was only with a great mental effort that he kept his cunt-hungry cock from constantly swelling into a hard-on. He knew he had to have some relief soon or he would go mad and rape somebody. Except for when he was a kid, this had been the longest period of abstinence he had ever gone through.

At times, he actually hated Mona arid plotted revenge on her. He would lie in bed at night, wide awake, listening to her deep regular breathing next to him, and imagine all sorts of revenge: he would rip her clothes off and fuck her to within an inch of her life. Or ... better still ... he would sell her for a trifling sum to some young hoods in a motorcycle club and watch them gang-fuck her until all that smugness and all that righteousness was fucked out of her and she begged for more. He would watch them humiliate and degrade her in every known way and he would love every second of it.

But these fantasies only served to make him all the more horny. His cock would swell into a steel cased hardness until he thought the thick mushroom head was going to burst. And it would throb ... the more he thought about his wife, the more it throbbed with an aching hardness that almost made it difficult to walk.

And it was painfully pulsating now as he moved restlessly about the spa compound at night, alone, smoking one cigarette after another. Mona would be in their cabana, asleep by now, clad in a modest nightie. Tomorrow she would say, "I don't know what you're doing up all night. You came here for a rest, didn't you?"

Actually, a rest was the last thing in Al's mind. An ex-football player, his excuse was a trick knee and the need to soak it in sulphur spring water. Actually, he thought the desert nights, the men and girls in brief bathing suits might turn Mona on. Since they had been at the spa, Mona had been to the pool once, wearing the bikini he had bought for her.

Her walk down to the pool in her brief, orange bikini had stopped everything cold. Men simply stared and drooled at her sensuous walk and body, and someone, maybe Peter Marshall or Bob Baines, had let out a low wolf-whistle. And well they might, for Mona's voluptuously liquid figure flowed along the side of the pool and fairly burst from the confines of her flimsy bikini. Her breasts were hugely rounded and riding firmly high. They quivered enticingly as she walked. And her wide, beautifully proportioned hips undulated with a quicksilver smoothness. Her fully developed and beautifully rounded buttocks protruded whitely from the bottom of her suit, and she self-consciously tried to pull the suit down. Right at the small of her back, above the suit, were twin dimples that rocked as she walked. Her stomach was superbly flat and contoured and her thighs were long and tapered and proud. Men simply stared open mouthed while women narrowed their eyes cattily.

But Al could only get her to the pool that one time. After the wolf-whistle, she had frostily declined to go swimming, saying, "I don't care for that crowd that hangs around down there."

So Al prowled the grounds alone, worried about his sex life and being a Peeping Tom. He walked quietly near the cabanas of the twins. Linda was-married to Pete Marshall and Lila was married to Bob Baines, and he wondered again if they ever swapped wives.

His angrily pulsating cock was swelling again uncomfortably in his pants as he circled their cabanas. The lights were on in both of them and the blinds were drawn. He got close enough to hear the music and the tinkle of girlish laughter, but he couldn't tell what was going on inside. Frustrated, filled with an obscene energy, he wandered back to the steam room. He had walked around three sides of it, looking for a window or a door with a window in it through which he could look. Three sides presented nothing but an adobe brick wall. The fourth side didn't have a walk, just desert sand and a lot of cactus. The fourth side faced the spa's outer wall and the desert beyond.

Trying to act casual, Al walked back, threading his way carefully through the prickly cactus and looking up at the fourth wall.

There, near the roof, was a small window!

Al caught his breath and looked around. He heard voices laughing, and he froze and flattened against the wall and faded back into the deeper shadows. He held his breath as his heart thumped against his rib cage like a triphammer. It would be embarrassing if he got caught. What could he say? Quickly, he tried to think of something that would sound plausible as the voices came closer.

The voices sounded excited and reckless ... perhaps a trifle drunk. Al noticed that the customers drank a lot at night. The voices were a party of people, men and women, and they grew hushed and giggled as they neared the steam room.

It was Pete Marshall! Al recognized his voice! Quickly, the others fell into place. It was Pete Marshall and Bob Baines with their twin wives, Linda and Lila and they were all going into the steam room!

Again, they hushed one another and grew so silent that all that could be heard was the far-off chirping of a cricket and their almost silent footsteps. They came to within a few feet of Al, the girl's giggling under their breath, the men carrying bottles of booze. The steam room door was open and a woosh of steam billowed out into the desert night air, and the two couples hurried inside, closing the door quickly. Al was still holding his breath as he heard the bolt being clicked shut, locking the door from the inside again.

Jesus, there were six people in there!

He let out his long held breath and took several deep ones, calming himself. One rule at Donnymead was the steam room: Men in the morning and women in the afternoon and never any mixing! Now, at night, there were three attractive couples in there with bottles of booze! Al had to know what was going on!

He stepped away from the wall, all action for the first time that night. The window as a small rectangle, near the roof. The window faced east, probably to catch the morning desert sun and illuminate the steam room where a lot of the daily massages were given.

Massage!

The word burned itself into his brain as if written there with a red-hot wire. Massage! All sorts of possibilities there! His long hard cock swelling to an obscenely bloated thickness, Al looked around. He just had to see what was going on in that damned steam room. Nearby, by a path, there was a barrel, a drum. It was one of many scattered around Donnymead spa. They were for throwing trash in and Harry Morgan was known to be a nut on neatness and had chewed out more than on 'guest' for littering.

Swiftly, Al walked to the barrel and looked around. The spa was quiet and no one was in sight, the desert night was hot and dry and utterly silent. He paused as his hands gripped the barrel's edge: If he did this, if he peeked, if he played the Peeping Tom and got caught, what could he say? How would he feel being labeled a Peeping Tom?

Al Weathers was a dark, still shadow bending over the barrel for a moment as he thought about what he was doing and felt the hammering pulsating need up between his legs. Thinking, thinking hard, then he picked up the barrel and stole silently off into the cactus, circling the steam room and ending standing under the small window and looking up. A light was coming, shining, out of that window.

His heart pounding again, Al placed the barrel and carefully, quietly, he climbed up on it and straightened up. The barrel was just the right size when added to his height. He saw that the window was a combination of glass and vent, a place to let steam out.

Tentatively, Al looked into and down the vent. Steam swirled and beaded the window. Stooping slightly, he peered down into the vent, feeling the heat of the steam full on his face.

The steam billowed like curtains in a storm, now revealing something, now concealing it. To his astonishment, to his ball-bursting amazement, Al found himself looking a naked buttocks! A beautifully rounded and proportioned ass with twin cheeks was presented to his view. The nakedly gleaming flesh was tanned and covered with a film of glistening sweat. He watched, frozen as the ass swung lasciviously, obscenely back and forth in front of his face!

And then it disappeared in swirls of rolling steam!

He barely strangled a cry of rage in his throat because such a tantalizing thing had been thrust before his view only to be taken away again! He almost fell off the barrel as he shifted, rearranging his view so that he could get a better look from another angle.

Slowly, he began to make forms out as his eyes grew accustomed to the steam and the perspective. It was like watching people moving about underwater. Their naked bodies were seen glistening lasciviously as they moved slowly about. Gradually, as his eyes grew more accustomed, he could make out individuals. There was Harry Morgan himself, stark naked, his great thick cock jutting out hugely and obscenely as he stood and tried to drink from a wine bottle, spilling some of it and causing the red liquid to snake down his neck and over his naked chest. On either side of him, posing in mind-blowing voluptuous nakedness were Lila and Linda, the twins. They were sitting on a bench on either side of him, their firmly ripened breasts glistening sensually from their sweat, their legs obscenely split wide, showing their two identical little hair-lined cuntal slits. They were playfully caressing Harry's powerful thighs and using their tongues to lick the red wine off his loins. The hairy resort owner was beginning to writhe and pump back and forth, his massively thickened cock looking as though it were about to throb right out of his loins as the girls lovingly laved his naked body all over with their tongues. One twin, Lila, was openly lascivious, her heels up on the bench with her legs spread wide so that her wetly throbbing pussy was thrust forward for all to see.

Al was peering down the vent and saw her entire pink plane of her wetly glistening cunt with its swollen vaginal lips jutting out. He gasped loudly as the fingers of her one hand lewdly spread the ragged pink lips of her cunt and then slowly plunged her outstretched middle finger deep into her moistly quivering flesh. Al watched almost reeling in excitement, as her hips pumped up and down with a lewd abandon against her finger, driving it even deeper into her hotly throbbing pussy. God, he thought, what a pair of sluts and Harry Morgan has got them! He's got the twins to himself!

The enormity of what he was seeing slowly sunk in as Al shifted his balance on the barrel. He was seeing an orgy!

His eyes darted about and quickly located the lushly ripened body of red headed Mae Morgan, splendidly naked and squeezed between the equally naked bodies of Pete Marshall and Bob Baines. Both men stepped back, and Al saw both of their massively throbbing cocks fully erect and eager to fuck. Mae posed with her hands on her smoothly curved hips, her loins thrust audaciously forward in lewd invitation. She ground her buttocks hungrily and Al groaned outloud. Her sensually naked body was glistening with sweat, and Pete Marshall was roughly massaging her large firm breasts with his hands. Slippery from the massage oil and perspiration, her softly ripened mounds kept sliding from his grasp as he pinched the nipples into a wanton life. Rough Bob Baines, like a big bear, standing behind her, held his thickly meaty penis in one hand while his free hand moved speculatively over Mae's warm fleshed buttocks.

The red headed masseuse's eyes were almost closed, and her full sensuous mouth was wantonly open as she slowly sank to her knees between the two men. Almost as if a signal had been given, the two men crowded close on either side of her, reaching down and caressing, and pinching her ripely quivering breasts while she took a cock in each hand.

Al was almost frantic, not knowing which obscene group to watch. Masses of nakedly sweating flesh appeared before him and then disappeared in clouds of hissing steam. He was watching a wild orgy as decadent as anything ever seen in Rome! One man with two women-wanton twins-and one voluptuous red head with two men who had penises that any male would be proud of. He felt his own painfully throbbing cock bulging in his pants to a iron-bar hardness.

Christ, he didn't know what to watch! He decided to look at both parts of the salacious spectacle if he could, to let the steam show him what he could see. He braced himself on the barrel and licked his lips nervously as he waited for the billowing clouds to thin out. His wildy jerking penis was stretched to its utmost limits, and he didn't know how much longer he could stand it before his churning hot cum came shooting out of his balls.

The steam cleared momentarily and he saw the sweating face of Mae Morgan and her naked young body with her proud firm breasts. She was kneeling on the floor, a rigidly pulsating cock in either hand, her expression one of ecstasy.

Mae opened her eyes and looked through the steam to see her husband lewdly caressing the twins. A jolt of wanton excitement rippled through her and she squeezed both hotly throbbing cocks and began rhythmically slipping her hand back and forth on them, hearing the loud groans of rapture from each man. She closed her eyes again and turned her head just as Pete Marshall jutted his hips forward and the lust-swollen head of his cock slipped across her lovely cheek before sliding into the hot wet confines of her eagerly waiting mouth.

Al watched as Mae's pulpy wet lips closed tightly over the head of the cock and her cheeks hollowed slightly as she began gently sucking. Her other hand remained tightly locked around the impatiently pulsing shaft of Bob Baines, and she slowly stroked it in time with her sucking.

The wetly sucking redhead spread her knees on the floor as wide as she could and lewdly pumped her hips back and forth as she thrust out her smooth rounded buttocks and rotated them obscenely. After a moment, she pulled her tightly ovaled mouth from Pete's glistening wet cock and turned her face to look at Bob's .massively bulging penis in her hand. Lewdly, she let her little pink tongue slide out and wetly circle his pulsating cock-head before taking it slowly in her hot velvety mouth.

Her free hand groped for Pete's lust-hardened flesh, and her fingers found it slippery from sweat and lubricated by her own saliva as she struggled to ensnare it and begin rhythmically stroking it.

A wall of hissing steam blew across the room, obscuring Mae and the two men in a lewd tableau. The steam billowed up the vent, and Al clenched his teeth against his bad luck as their nakedly writhing bodies were lost in winding blankets of steam. He squinted and, as the clouds thinned, could see the other participants in the wildly exciting orgy. Harry had put some sort of inflatable beach matt on the wooden bench, and he was lolling on it like a King while the voluptuous young twins crouched on their knees on either side of his naked body and smiled in eager anticipation at each other.

Al shifted position again in order to get a better look. Harry was lying flat on his back with a wildly throbbing hard on, looking up at the twins kneeling like willing love slaves beside the master, facing one another like one girl looking in a mirror. Stark naked, Lila and Linda looked even more alike then when clothed. It was like looking at a crystal clear mirror image; their lushly ripened young breasts, their nipples, their sensually alluring bodies were exactly alike.

With a depraved smile, Linda laughed and reached forward with both hands to cup her sister's firmly quivering breasts, her fingers playing with the hardening nipples until they were as hard as peach stones. Lila, smiling wantonly in return, ran one hand caressingly over her sister's nakedly glistening torso while she used the other to playfully run her fingers up and down the inside of Harry Morgan's thigh.

Al watched, his breath coming fast, as he saw Lila turn her entire attention to Linda and cup her hand over her sister's moistly throbbing vaginal mound and gently, slowly, begin to caress her sister up between her widespread thighs.

Harry, lying on his back and sweating in the steam, looked up just as Lila used her fingers to spread Linda's pinkly swelling pussy lips, making them gape throbbingly wide and open. Her tight young cunt glistened in the steam, and Harry, laughing lewdly, ran his big hand up the inside of Linda's wetly trembling thigh to where Lila's fingers held her sister's pussy invitingly open to Harry's outstretched middle finger. The burly resort owner watched as the beautiful young girl's cunt lips slowly slipped over and wrapped around his extended finger as she gently pushed it into the moistly lubricated depths of her cunt. Immediately, Linda's hips began to move back and forth in a lewd rhythm as the twins locked their wetly eager mouths together in a lascivious lesbianic kiss, their tongues darting like pink fish into each other's mouths.

Al felt like he was going to pass out from the painful throbbing of his cock. With a moan, he slipped down from the window and slumped against the wall, trying to catch his breath. He had been right! He knew something was going on! But, in his wildest fantasies, he had never imagined anything so wanton and lewd as what was going on in the steam room!

He closed his eyes as he realized the full extent and enormity of the depravity going on inside. This was no normal orgy where couples got together, and couples were swapped; no mate-swapping affair where couples paired off and went to bedrooms to be private. No, none of that! None of them just switching couples and fucking and sucking in sight of each other. Lewd and depraved, they had divided off in threes, with Harry having two girls-twins-in wildly enthusiastic lesbianic embraces, and Mae had two men, both exceptionally well hung studs to play with.

With a low moan of pain, Al had to unzip his pants and free his thick bulging cock. The relative coolness of the desert air hit it as he wrapped his hand around the iron-hard shaft and stroked it a few times.

Jesus, he had to have a woman, he had to have release or die! It seemed so unfair. Just a few feet away was Harry Morgan playing with two luscious young cunts at the same time. Two!

Remembering that it all was still going on inside, Al climbed back on the barrel with his eagerly pulsating cock sticking out like some prehistoric club.

He had to see more!

The desire raging through him was almost more than he could bear. He knew-remembered-hearing the door locked shut from the inside, else he would have tried to get in and take his chances once inside. He knew he couldn't get in short of breaking the door down, yet he was dying to fuck something. He knew if the feeling kept up, he would go back to the cabana and rape Mona even if it meant her leaving him.

He climbed back up and positioned himself, rapidly stroking his long naked penis as he looked in to see that the steam had subsided somewhat and now nakedly writhing bodies were visible everywhere below.

Mae Morgan was still kneeling, a magnificent red head, her big melony breasts bouncing, her hips bucking frantically as she went wild and sucked-her head bobbing back and forth between the two naked men-taking first one hotly throbbing cock in her mouth and then the other. The fingers of both of her hands were cupping the heavy, sperm bloated balls of both Pete and Bob, and she was gently kneading their scrotums.

Then, her wild eyes narrowed, she pulled Pete's massively erect penis from her wetly sucking mouth and hissed out air. She was ready! She was hot, hotter than the steam, and her own cum was already coiling about in her cock-hungry loins.

As Al watched, she crouched nakedly down on all fours, her big breasts dancing heavily below. Big Bob Baines was kneeling behind her and gripping her smoothly curved hips with both his ham-like hands. The thick head of his wetly glistening cock buried itself in the deep fleshy crevice between her buttocks, sending a visible shudder of lewd delight through Mae.

Peter Marshall was on the matt, lying flat on his back and wiggling his body between Mae's arms until his long rigid cock was just below her sweat-dripping face. She looked hungrily at his big meaty penis in front of her mouth and licked her lips in anticipation. Mae arched her back so that her lushly rounded ass cheeks stuck out lasciviously and temptingly to Bob. He looked down at her exposed buttocks, at the tiny budding hole of her anus as he guided the massively swollen head of his cock against the fluted edges of her moistly waiting cunt. He pushed forward, slowly spreading her vaginal lips wide from behind, exposing the lubricated pink walls of her pussy as he slowly pressed inward until his long hard cock had spread her vaginal lips wide ... then with a low groan slammed the shaft with a lubricated ease far up into her hotly pulsating pussy.

Outside the window, Al stood on tip-toe to watch and began stroking his painfully throbbing shaft with his hand just to get a little relief as he watched Mae react to the wildly uninhibited fucking she was beginning to get. Her breasts swayed and danced while her mouth hung loosely open, as Bob's lust-thickened cock sunk home. From the expression in her eyes and on her face, Al could tell she was almost going insane from the delicious sensation of being fucked from behind, for she had thrust her nakedly rounded buttocks up and back and rotated her pelvis in a lewd hunger while Bob began to fuck in and out with a brutal kind of rhythm. Mae bucked under each thrust, loving every minute of it, as her sensually aroused body slammed eagerly back against Bob's thickly heated cock fucking in and out of her lust-inflamed vagina.

Lowering her head, her wetly parted lips sought Pete's hotly pulsing shaft and, finding its virile hardness, took it in her mouth and began bobbing her head in rhythm to Bob's brutal thrusts into her quivering young pussy.

Bob Baines, grinning cynically at Pete, tightened his grip on the soft warm flesh of Mae's nakedly straining hips and began fucking her with all his might as Pete Marshall, his eyes squeezed shut tight, reached down and cruelly tangled his hands in Mae's flaming red hair, holding her face in place while he began insanely sawing his massively thickened cock in and out of her tightly ovaled mouth.

The steam came thickly again and obscured the lewd trio, and Al frantically darted a glance to see what Harry was doing. A low, barely perceptible moan escaped his lips and he began stroking his granite-hard cock a little faster as he saw what delights Harry was arranging for himself.

Lila, the beautiful slut, was lying spread-eagle on the matt, her naked young cunt jutting up and lewdly writhing while her twin sister, Linda, got on top of her and ground her hair-covered little pelvis down and around against Lila's wantonly gyrating pussy while they kissed and crushed their full sensuous breasts against each other.

Harry was kneeling nakedly on the floor by the matted bench. Alongside the twins' feet. With a wild look, he parted Linda's legs until they were stretched wide apart. His hot eyes stared at them for a minute, at Linda on top of Lila and grinding her pinkly glistening vagina down against the identical pinkly glistening cunt of her twin sister! Both girls were lying with their legs obscenely, wantonly spread, their nakedly ready cunts exposed and twitching with an unholy, depraved desire. The girls writhed together, caressing each other's ripely straining breasts, grinding their tautly rounded bellies together and rubbing their erectly throbbing clitoris's lewdly together while Harry slowly crawled between their widespread legs and admired Linda's firm tight buttocks spread so wide with her brown little anus completely exposed. With a lewd grin, he stuck out his thumb and pressed against her tight puckered anal button, like a door bell, and laughed loudly as he felt Linda shudder with lascivious delight under his touch.

With his free hand, he reached under and felt the firmly clenched cheeks of Lila's soft warm buttocks. He wedged his outstretched middle finger into her sweaty crevice and flicked his finger over her elastic little anal opening, sending an identical shudder through Lila. He began exciting both twins to a fevered pitch as he rammed his thumb and middle finger into their hotly puckering rectums, and he laughed as they both shrieked in lewd pleasure. Both of them looked completely abandoned as they moaned in loud delight and tried to spread their legs even further.

Suddenly, Harry could stand the teasing no longer. He yanked his hands away from their wantonly thrashing buttocks and, with an insane grin of glee, put all his weight on his arms and crouched behind Linda. Carefully, as though he were placing a loaded rocket in a firing tube, he put his hotly throbbing cock on the narrow hair-lined opening to her tight little cunt and pushed.

Lila looked up just in time to see her twin sister throw her head back in wanton ecstasy as Harry drove his long hard cock into her sister's gratefully receiving vagina. She thrust her own wetly ready cunt up against her sister's pubic hair, and felt Harry's strong thighs rippling powerfully as he began wildly fucking her sister. Soon, she knew, it would be her turn.

Al watched in the gathering steam as Harry pulled his wetly glistening penis all the way out of Linda's moistly clasping pussy, changed positions, aimed lower and with one smooth stroke sank his lust-hardened thickness into Lila's frantically undulating pussy. Both the girls were going wild with lust as Harry fucked first one, then the other, slamming his massively erect cock into the two identical pussies with a fury born of lust. Then, the steam billowed and gushed up again.

Again, Al slumped back, his pounding cock in his hand. He had to, no matter what the cost, he had to fuck the twins. And Mae! All of them. Tomorrow, he would ask Mae for a massage and be willing to pay any price. Tomorrow? Tomorrow was too far away, he had to have cunt and have it now. Hastily, he jumped from the barrel and dragged it away, putting his rigid prick back in his pants with his free hand.

He had to get fucked!

For what seemed to be an eternity, Al Weathers stalked the compound like some kind of demented ape. He had seen enough! Now he wanted the real thing! He knew where to go, he knew that in his cabana, he, Al Weathers, had the best piece of ass in the spa. He also knew with a groan that was close to despair that he really didn't have the best piece! Just the coldest piece! Mona was an iceberg, and the last time they had had sex was over six weeks prior to their coming to the spa. Every time he suggested sex, every time he alluded to it, Mona had a way of curling her fleshy upper lip to show disapproval. The last time they had sex she had been stiff and unresponsive, and she had only let him jerk on top of her until he came, had his orgasm. He had been so horny that he had spilled his cum almost immediately and Mona, yawning, turned away and said, "That should satisfy you for a while."

But it didn't! It only seved to increase his desire!

Al stalked around the spa with his fists jammed into his pockets. He didn't care who saw him. In fact, he was dying for somebody-some man-to fight with. He longed to smash his fist in somebody's face and relieve the rage and tension he felt in his body. He stalked back to the steam room half a dozen times, but he couldn't bring himself to look any more. He wanted to get fucked!

Yet, with a groan, he admitted to himself that he couldn't go wake up Mona. She would be furious with him for waking her at such an hour and, if he got too aggressive about sex, she was sure to leave him. She had vowed that she would leave him if he got too rough.

Al Weathers was a lonely figure standing in the compound as dawn was just beginning to touch the rim of the far-off desert. The first rays spilled across the big sky, promising a day full of dry desert heat. He had been up all night. He had smoked almost two packs of cigarettes and paced the camp from one end to the other, full of frustration and despair. He had to admit to himself that he couldn't stand up to his wife, that she had the upper hand. No, he was doomed to a life of getting his sexual thrills elsewhere. He made elaborate plans to get next to Mae and the twins.

The twins! Every time he thought of what Harry was doing with them, his cock would leap to an aching obscene life! He had to have the twins!

He sat in a dark and empty recreation room and smoked and wondered what kind of relationship Pete Marshall and Bob Baines had with their wives. To him, the whole bunch seemed depraved. Even Harry and Mae seemed depraved. I mean, what kind of guy lets his wife act that way?

Yet he knew he wanted what the men had been so obviously enjoying earlier. He knew they were all still down there. The steam had been turned off and the lights were out, and they were probably sleeping it off the way a drunk sleeps a monumental bat off.

Early dawn saw him slipping into their cabana, red-eyed, weary, frayed. He tried to be quiet as possible as he undressed. The room was dark with the blinds drawn and Mona was sound asleep. He undressed slowly, thinking back, remembering prowling the spa grounds, checking out every single cabana. And he cursed himself every single moment he was doing it, realizing he was being a Peeping Tom. He, Al Weathers, reduced to being a cowardly Peeping Tom by a frigid wife! It was almost too much to bear, too much to admit!

He slipped into bed carefully, a little at a time. Mona moaned in her sleep and turned to her side. He watched, fascinated, as she turned over restlessly, throwing one leg out from under the covers. Her nightie had twisted and rode up over her voluptuously rounded hips during the night, and she was naked from the waist down. One long leg lay free of the sheets and blanket, long and tapered exactly right. He stared hungrily down at her nakedly curved buttocks and at the pelvic bone that jutted so enticingly right next to his hand. A corner of the sheet barely covered her succulent young cunt and pubic hair. Her supple, firmly molded stomach rose and fell in the deep regular rhythm of sleep. Al settled his big frame carefully alongside her. The way she was sleeping, he could see down her nightie at her lushly ripened breasts.

They were bulging firmly with that deeply rounded cleavage that never failed to thrill him. If she moved a little more, one nipple might work its way free. He began stroking his painfully throbbing cock in his hand as he looked at her magnificently rounded breasts; they were perfect above her slender waist and wide sensual hips. Everything about her body was perfect, and he stroked his long pulsating penis rhythmically as he greedily looked at her gorgeous body. With his free hand, he pulled the corner of the sheet down, completely exposing Mona's succulently pink cunt to his view!

So near and yet so far!

Just as he was looking at her ripe little pussy with its symmetrical, rounded lips that were so voluptuous and velvet soft, Mona moaned again in her sleep and rolled over, completely covering herself.

Al jammed his fist in his mouth to keep from screaming in rage. He lay on his back, breathing hard, trying desperately to control himself. His mind seethed: Sex! It was everywhere!

It was everywhere and he wasn't getting any of it.

He lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling, knowing it would soon be light out. His lips tight and tense, his jaw set, he vowed to himself that he would do anything ... anything ... to fuck a woman.