Chapter 3
Although he didn't give the outward appearance, Harry Morgan was a careful man. His attitude and manner were casual and unhurried. His grin was easy and he always seemed to have time to stop and chat about anything at all. Most people described him as "easy-going" and the kind of guy to run a spa. Yet Harry was a deceptively careful man. He didn't believe in gambling and any risks he took were calculated risks: like the latest orgy in the steam room. By week's end, the Marshalls and the Baines would be gone back to L.A. He knew they would talk, but he knew they'd be careful just whom they talked to, and anyone they recommended to the spa would be welcome.
Harry was a careful man. He picked his partners with care, checking them out carefully before entering into anything with them. Life in the desert was good to him and Mae. The spa was a roaring success, booked way in advance. Harry's first impulse was to protect himself and Mae and the spa, so he was a careful man.
He was also a neat man. Everyone who worked for him at the spa knew that. Let him find unclean drains or sloppy serving habits in the kitchen and the help would hear about it; let anyone give him backtalk and they found themselves unceremoniously escorted from the spa grounds, their wages in their pockets, their thumbs in the air, begging for a ride.
Ground keepers claimed Harry could see a rumbled chewing gum wrapper from a hundred yards away. The gardners and ground keepers soon learned that Harry was a casual, easy-going guy if they did their jobs and kept the grounds spotless.
It was just a little after dawn that same morning, and Harry, a careful, neat man, was standing outside of his steam room and looking at the waste barrel that had been moved. He frowned, wondering why it was out of place. It wasn't out of place by very much, but still ... that was enough to alert him.
Everyone straggled sleepily toward their cabanas, but Harry stayed behind, claiming he wanted to clean up. Hands in hip pockets, he sauntered over and looked at the barrel. Nothing in it. Still, from the marks in the sand, it was easy to see it was out of place. He bent over and could see lots of tracks-footprints-all around the barrel. Someone had moved the barrel and he was sure it wasn't any of his staff. They knew better. If any of his staff had moved it, they would have raked out the prints and smoothed the sand over.
Harry straightened and rubbed his chin. Someone, some guest, probably, had moved an empty trash barrel. Now why, he asked himself, would anyone do that?
He followed the tracks back through the cactus and on around behind the steam room. The tracks ended and he could see where the barrel had been set down. Right below the one little window and vent in the steam room.
Harry was a careful man. He walked out, saw that the grounds were empty and he picked up the barrel and walked behind the steam room with it. Putting it down in the exact same place it had been placed before, he climbed up on it.
When he looked down the vent and the window, he let out a low, long whistle. His face blank, he got off the barrel and put it back where it belonged. Finding a rake, he raked the sand smooth, completely removing any trace of footprints. Once the job was done, he went off to the big cabana he shared with Mae.
His wife was still asleep ... deeply asleep ... when he finally got there. Although he was tired, he knew he couldn't go to bed. He had some thinking to do. He brewed himself some coffee and lit a cigarette and sat down to carefully think things out.
"You're behaving like a big baby, Al."
The taunt from Mona almost drove him into a blind, insane fury! He could have leaped up and smashed his fist in his wife's face. Instead he said petulantly, "I don't feel good."
"What's the matter with you?"
"I'm tired."
"You should go to bed at night."
Again, Al wanted to leap out of bed and scream at his wife. He wanted to yell ... "Bed? Who the fuck wants to go to a bed with an iceberg in it?" He wanted to really defy his wife and tell her off, but instead, he mumbled. "I did go to bed. Can't sleep."
Mona cocked a pretty eyebrow. "I woke up at about midnight, and you weren't in bed. You weren't even here."
"I went out to get some fresh air."
"Is that all you went out to get?"
Mona's insinuating bitchiness shot right to his marrow and hurt. How could a girl be so incredibly tantalizingly beautiful and yet be such a cold-blooded bitch? It was beyond his understanding. He fought for self-control before saying, "Be reasonable, Mona, what the hell else can you do at Donnymead at night?"
Mona became coy as she talked to him over her shoulder, not looking at him as she put on makeup in a mirror and frostily admired her elegant face. "Oh, I don't know. There are those two flashy twins from L.A. What are their names? Linda and ... something."
Al heaved a big bored sigh. "Those flashy twins have some mighty big fleshy husbands."
Mona sniffed. "Not the type I care to know too well."
Again, her smug superiority made Al clench his teeth. God, how he would like to just once tell her off! Just once, for one second, he would like to humiliate her, slap the shit out of her, ram his cock up her asshole ... anything!
She came away from the mirror looking lovely, completely dressed. "Ready to go horseback riding?"
He looked up at her in amazement. Here he was, lying in bed, telling her he didn't feel well and she is asking about riding. "I'm too tired."
"But you promised." Mona put on a pout and Al looked at her thickly pouting lips and all he could think of was seeing those full, wetly parted lips wrapped tightly around the shaft of his pulsating cock. When he didn't answer, she turned to the door, dressed in western riding clothes. "Very well, I'll go myself. If you're feeling so bad, why don't you go take a steam bath?"
He sat up on one elbow in bed, his face alive for the first time that morning. "Why don't you take one with me?"
Mona was so superior and a little weary, as if she were talking to a child. "You know there's no mixed bathing. Besides, I hate those things. All that icky wet heat."
The door closed behind her, and Al sank back on the pillow with a sigh. The whole idea of coming to a spa was to loosen Mona up and, if anything, she seemed more stiff and aloof than before. She had alienated them from all the other guests by being pointedly unfriendly. She had driven him mad with her proper ways. If it was the last thing he ever did, he was going to get even with her ... even if it meant fucking up their marriage.
He pulled himself up on one elbow again. It was still early. Before eight. Hardly anyone ever used the baths before twelve or eleven. If he went down there now....
He was up and dressing with a renewed energy. He would follow his wife's advice, he would take a steam bath ... a real long hot one ... and if Mae Morgan happened to come along ... or the twins...! Hot damn!
He dressed in a few seconds and soon was walking briskly toward the steam room, whistling at the sunny morning. It was going to be another hot day ... it was going to be a hot day in more ways than one, he thought happily.
He found the steam room empty with the steam turned off. It was still hot though, from the night before. For a moment, he was sure he could smell the musky odor of sex ... a lot of sex! He set the thermostat and waited for the steam to build up. He looked around the room and up at the ceiling where he had been watching the night before. It all seemed so unreal now, but there were the mats stretched out on the floor ... and the bench where those two beautifully lucious twins were fucked by one man.
Feeling a strange kind of sexual excitement and frustration, Al quickly stripped naked and put the customary towel around his waist and sat down to wait for the steam to build up and ... for anyone to come. With a little luck, it would be Mae or one of the twins. Or both. Probably, he told himself, with his luck, it would be a bald, fat male guest who would bore him to death ... if so, the poor son of a bitch had better not bend over in front of him!
He kept yawning as he waited, finally deciding to lie down, relax and wait, with his head cradled in his arms.
He got comfortable, and promptly fell asleep!
When he awoke, it was to the gentle, insistent shaking of his shoulder by someone's hand. When he was aware of what was happening, he jerked his head up, looking around with bleary eyes. "Hey, Mr. Weathers, how long have you been here?"
"H ... huh? What?" He rubbed his eyes and focused them. Oh Jesus! It was Mae Morgan, clad in a blue terrycloth robe, bending over him, her wild mane of red hair tumbling, a quizzical smile on her lips. Al stared up at her and could think of nothing but how lovely and wantonly sexy she was in the bathrobe with her gypsy looks and husky voice. He wanted to fuck her so badly his whole body seemed to throb. Yet, what could he say? "I watched you last night." It might have been honest of him to say so, but Al, in his present state of mind, didn't possess those kinds of guts. He smiled and said, "S ... sorry, I must've dozed off."
"It's okay," Mae hastened to assure him, "It's what Donnymead is for. This is a great place to sleep off a hangover. Harry and I sack out in here when we've had too much ... you know ... partying ... and the next morning we stagger outa here without a hangover." She paused to allow herself a throaty chuckle before adding, "A little weak, but no hangover."
Al found he couldn't listen to Mae's goodnatured chatter. He couldn't even look at her voluptuously stunning figure all bundled up in the robe. "I ... I better go ... you must have some massages to do." He sat up and heaved himself off the bench.
"Naw, stay. Hey, my first massage isn't for an hour yet and that's old Mrs. Stewart. You know, that old mountain of flesh."
"Well ... I'd better get going anyway. Go for a swim."
"Tell you what," Mae said, casual and completely ignoring what he said. "Let me warm up on you." She slapped the matt on the bench with one hand.
"W ... what?"
"Lie down!" she commanded.
"Why?" he asked, feeling stupid and achingly aware of his near nudity with only a towel around his waist. For the first time, he became aware of all the hot steam swirling around and how much he was sweating. A softly alluring film of perspiration was forming on Mae's gypsy-soft face.
"I'm going to give you a massage, buster, on the house." She rubbed her palms together professionally.
"How come?" he asked, even though he found himself obeying her and lying down on the bench on his stomach. His heart was pounding and he was trying to be calm and realize the full extent of what he was getting into. Here he was with Mae Morgan a few hours after he had seen her being wildly fucked by two men!
"Well, because I feel like it, that's how come. I gotta do an old biddy, no reason why I can't do a hot young one like you. How old are you, Mr. Weathers?"
"Twenty four."
"Ha!" She slapped him on his shoulder and absently rubbed the tense muscle. "I'm six years older than you."
She stepped back from the table and removed her terrycloth robe with a flourish, hanging it on a peg on the wall. Al caught his breath and felt his restlessly stirring cock jerk to hardness under him as he saw she was wearing nothing but a bikini ... the kind she paraded around the spa compound, driving all the male guests nuts. This one was a royal purple color and the halter was low-cut and showed her bouncy cleavage completely. In fact, the brassiere was a flimsy thing, and certainly should never be used in the water. They barely held Mae's big bursting breasts. Al had seen her bra after a dip in the pool, and her berry-like nipples had pressed right through the flimsy material, giving her a licentious quality.
The panties were little more than an enlarged G-string, just barely cupping and covering her pubic hair. Certainly her firmly curved thighs and loins appeared naked. When she turned to put the robe on the peg, Al caught a flashy, fleshy sight of her smooth white buttocks where the material of her tight bikini panties had bit deep into the crevice which separated her rounded ass cheeks. He watched, becoming more heatedly aroused as her buttocks dimpled and undulated as she shifted weight and then turned to him. "Now," she said huskily, "almost ready to go to work."
"I've never had a woman give me a massage before."
Mae was pouring clear oil on her palms and rubbing her. hands together, "Well, it's been awhile since I've given a man, other than Harry, a massage."
"You do give men massages?" he asked, feeling smutty, his massively thickened cock swollen against the mat and bench Maybe if I get to talking, one thing will lead to another.
"Sure. If I like them." She laughed with that throaty quality and slapped him on the shoulder. "Gotcha!"
"Huh?"
Mae bent over him, digging her oiled fingers into his neck muscles and dorsal muscles. "Whew! Relax, you're tighter than a sailor's knot. Relax."
Al laughed, embarrassed. "Well ... it's just that ... well, I've never had a woman massage me before."
"First time for everything." He felt her firm hands kneading the muscles a little further down his back. "How's your wife enjoying the spa?" Mae asked, really digging into his back, but carefully watching his face for an answer.
"Oh ... great."
His slight pause before answering told Mae a lot. She smiled indulgently and leaned some weight on her hands as she dug in and began to loosen him up. His tense body and hesitant reply was indicative of trouble between them. "What's she doing now?"
"Oh. Horseback riding. She likes it."
"Uh huh. How long have you been married?"
"Oh." Again he hesitated. "Little over six months."
Mae smiled and really rubbed up and down his spine, feeling his spinal cord under the skin as she went along. "Hell," Mae said, "I should think you two would be spending all your time in the cabana giving each other a massage." She laughed coarsely.
Al didn't answer. He hated to admit that he had never given or been given a massage. Mona didn't like being touched.
"Relax," Mae said, changing the conversation. "Say, you've got some build. You ever play sports?"
"Some. A little football," he said, being modest.
"Then you've had massages before."
"Yeah, but always with men." Mae gave her throaty laugh again. "Well, this is exactly the same only better. Relax!
You're like a coiled spring. I ain't gonna hurt you!"
He had to laugh at her good natured way. She must be quite a broad, he thought, smiling to himself. He forced himself to relax his big frame and let Mae dig in. She was kneading and massaging the muscles on up and down his back with sure, strong fingers. She wormed her way up and down his spine. Always, she worked her fingers lower and lower down his back. He felt her probing fingers slip a little under the towel, moving it down a bit. He could see her sleekly curving hips and the hot dog bun-shape of her vagina under the swim suit right in front of his face. Her thighs were shiny with sweat and he watched her perspiration soaking in the purple bikini panties, turning the material transparent! In a little while, the material would be sticking wetly to her ripely seductive body, revealing each little curve and bulge.
Now the steam room was silent, and Mae's face grew serious as she worked over Al's muscular back, working her way lower and lower, gradually pushing the towel lower and lower on his tightly clenched buttocks. With a low laugh, she tugged at the towel, pulling it free from his loins. "I can't give you a decent massage with that damn thing on. None of the women ever wear anything."
Al couldn't say a word, only lie face down on the bench and grit his teeth against the iron-hardness growing in his painfully throbbing cock as he felt Mae's strong hands kneading down his back again. This time they went lower ... and lower until her fingers were digging deep into his naked buttocks. She cupped a cheek in each hand and rubbed and massaged, hissing at him, "Relax, goddamnit! You're not in a football game now."
It was like a lewd command. With all his will, he forced himself to relax and let Mae do what she wanted.
He felt her fingers sliding down into the tightly held fleshy crevice between his buttocks. Her fingers touched his anus, sending sensual shivers throughout his body. Her fingers pried his cheeks apart so he felt a rush of steam on his anus that was now so elastically puckered.
Then, with a suddeness impossible to predict, before he could move a muscle, Mae Morgan lowered her flaming red hair and ran her tongue wetly over the entire length of his crevice, the ruby hot tip of her tongue flicking over his anus.
He leaped and tensed again, his mind exploding like an electric light going out. He couldn't believe such a brazenly obscene act. It was lewd and lusty and an open invitation to fuck, and nothing else. He lay still, his eyes closed, waiting. His mouth fell open slackly and a low moan of wonder and lewdness came out of him as he felt her hot wet tongue slowly traveling down his spinal column.
It burrowed its way, licking and twirling around, between his tightly clenched buttocks. Mae was using all her strength to keep the cheeks parted. Her flaming hot tongue wormed its way down to where it lashed back and forth over his desire-tightened anus. It was an unendurable pleasure that made him moan aloud and caused his balls to churn with unspilled cum. It mounted to such a peak of intensity, that he thought he couldn't stand it another second....
And then it stopped!
Mae pulled her mouth and tongue away and massaged his thighs and legs, finally giving them a fond slap and saying, "Turn over."
The words were said quietly, almost casually, as if he were just another customer. His mind was fighting a losing battle with the tremendous burgeoning need in his groin. He kept wondering: Jesus, what if someone should come in?
Mae answered that question by going to the door and sliding the bolt shut before turning and saying, "Well? Turn over!"
Al mentally said, "Okay, baby, you asked for it," and rolled over on his back, his arms over his eyes, his wildly throbbing erection looking like some one-eyed pre-historic monster lifting its long neck up through the swirling steam.
Mae came back to the bench and stood there with her hands on her hips, looking down at his visibly pulsating cock. "My, you are tense."
His lust-thickened penis jerked of its own accord, hot with lewd desire. He looked up at Mae. Her body was glistening with sweat and one of her brassiere straps had slipped down over the shoulder permitting one lushly ripened breast to hang practically free. He could just see the beginning of her pink nipple. Her red hair was wild and disarrayed and wet with a film from the steam. She leaned over him grinning, her cleavage deepening and bunching together as her hands began to massage his big chest. "Relax!" she said hoarsely as the steam swirled around them. "Just close your eyes and relax."
Al closed his eyes and let his body relax, let her hands roam where they may. She was trained at her job and her fingers felt their way all over his body, kneading the flesh in a sensuous way, massaging, exciting, arousing. She even pinched the nipples on his chest and put her hot wet mouth to them and let her wet tongue twirl slowly around.
She massaged his stomach muscles, making him breathe deeply, with her fingers and her mouth. Her red mouth with the velvety tongue, was all over his stomach, probing into his belly-button and swirling close to his frantically pulsating cock.
Al suddenly understood that the whole massage was directed right at his groin. There was where it would all culminate. Always, her fingers kneaded the flesh toward the groin, always, inexorably, her wetly sucking mouth moved toward his massively thickened penis. He lay as still as he could, trying hard not to tremble and not doing a very good job of it-as he felt her hands and wetly heated mouth moving down his stomach.
Again, with a suddenness impossible to predict or react to, Mae swooped her head down and took the thick mushroom head of his cock in her soft warm mouth! He felt her wetly parted lips slowly tightening around his violently pulsing penis and moaned aloud, opening his eyes and craning his head to watch the wild redheaded woman eagerly sucking his long thick cock. The other shoulder strap to her halter had slipped off her sweaty shoulder and both of her proudly full breasts were hanging deliciously out, their nipples pointed and hard.
He saw her wild gypsy profile and her warm buttery mouth open wide and those velvety soft lips wrapped lovingly around the lust-swollen head of his cock. It was a deliciously obscene thing to see and feel as she sucked lightly and enticingly on his hard pulsating shaft. He jerked and jumped when the tip of her wetly licking tongue flicked over the tiny opening at the end of his cock. His eyes darted down and saw that her bikini panties were soaked clean through with sweat and clinging to her body like glue. He could see her moistly swollen vaginal lips and the place where they softly parted.
He moaned aloud as Mae took one hand and put the fingers and thumb around the thick shaft of his cock, near the base. Slowly, she began stroking back and forth. At the same time, she began sucking harder with her warm wet mouth and her head started to bob up and down. She took as much of his hotly throbbing cock as she could into her eagerly sucking mouth and then gradually withdrew until only her tightly ovaled lips were sucking on his pulsating head.
He shuddered all over as he felt his cum churning like a cyclone in his sperm-bloated balls. It had been so very long since he had shot his cum! Now it would be only seconds before his wildly jerking penis began spewing its white hot load down her throat.
Covered with sweat, her lushly naked breasts dancing and quivering free, Mae began hungrily sucking and stroking in long strokes, establishing a rhythm he felt forced to join. Eagerly his hips began to pump wantonly up and down in an effort to drive his long thick hardness further and deeper into her throat. Propping himself up on his elbows, Al Weathers looked down through lust-dazed eyes and saw the redheaded masseuse sucking hard on his wetly glistening cock, her head bobbing up and down, her nakedly dancing breasts scraping wetly and softly across his thighs and hip. He saw his own abandoned lewd pumping, and he groaned with delight as he felt the delicious pleasure bolting through his body like a hot electric current.
Then Mae was reaching down between his tightly tensed thighs with her free hand, her hand probing, her fingers pushing. They cleaved their way right to his buttocks and he felt one of her fingers probing brazenly at his thickly puckered anus and he let out another wild moan as he began to fuck harder into the warm softness of her mouth. His arms shot out and he seized her head that was cushioned by her thick mane of red hair, his fingers tangling cruelly as he seized and held her head in position. Then he began ramming with all his previously contained, football strength, fucking Harry Morgan's wife in the mouth with all the rage and frustration and lust that had been bottled and choked up in him for six months.
Mae took his brutal thrusts deep into her mouth to the point where she almost gagged, yet she kept sucking greedily, relentlessly driving him toward his orgasm. Her fingers and thumb kept stroking his thickly hardened cock while she sucked so hard on the out-stroke that her cheeks hollowed. Her head was no longer bobbing up and down, but held in place in Al's iron grip as he fucked into her tightly ovaled lips with all his might, incoherent mumblings of lust spilling from his mouth as he chanted every obscenity he could think of.
He could feel the outstretched middle finger of her other hand trying to wiggle its way up his tightly puckering anus.
His head thrashed from side to side as he fucked away with a suicidal recklessness until he felt his hotly impatient cum rushing through him like white hot steel pouring from a blast furnace.
"Aaaaaaaaaaagggggggghhhhhhhaaaa!!"
Al shoved his whole hair-covered groin up into her face, burying his wildly spewing cock deep in her voraciously sucking mouth while he held her head still. Mae noisily gulped down the spurting white hot sperm and then eagerly sucked for more.
His moans and involuntary jerkings gradually subsided and ... for the first time in months, his satiated cock gradually went soft with a feeling of satisfaction. He lay with his eyes closed, feeling completely at ease. He looked up to see Mae Morgan straightening up, some thin strands of his cum on her full sensuous lips. Her half-naked body glistening with sweat from her efforts and the billowing steam heat of the room. Her proudly upraised breasts stood out brazen and voluptuous as she snatched up her brassiere and began stuffing the softly rounded globes of flesh back inside the garment.
She frowned as she looked at a ship's clock hung on the wall. "Hell! That old bat will be here any moment! She's never late." She slapped his naked stomach, "Up, lover boy. You've got to get out of here, and I've got to change into something more decent. Come on, get!"
He swung to his feet and found his legs delightfully weak. He grinned at her and she grinned back warmly at him. She couldn't keep her hands off his body as she said, her eyes narrowed, "Mmmmmmmm, I don't know if I can wait. I'd like to have that beautiful long hard cock of yours right here." She growled playfully as she grabbed her vaginal mound and rolled her eyes.
"When can we get together again?"
"I'll let you know, now get the hell out of here!"