Spencer's Canyon

byilikeithot6308©

I know the pool boy story has been done once or twice, but I've never done one. Hopefully, it's different enough to be worth your time. Have fun.

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When I decided to take some time off from school, feeling overwhelmed, and needing to recharge, I never thought things would work out the way they did.

Sometimes, the best parts of life happen by accident.

***

As I said, I had been going to school for over two years straight, trying to accelerate my graduation and start earning money as soon as possible. It seemed like a good idea at the time, and of course, I was a lousy judge of my own stamina, feeling certain I could handle it, even if others couldn't.

Finally, I had to admit that I was in over my head. I had made some gains, but I couldn't keep up the pace. I needed a break.

That break didn't need to be a vacation, just a change. I was looking for a job, so I could at least have some financial gain while I was away. The ad caught my eye.

"Local resort hotel and spa looking for staff to fill multiple roles. Four positions available."

Not a lot of information there, but plenty of mystery, and I always loved a good mystery. What local resort hotel? Which roles? I placed a call, and after a brief phone interview, was asked to attend the facility in a few days, for a personal meeting. The interviewer gave me directions, seemingly to the middle of nowhere.

In the meantime, I tried to relax. I would have almost four months to recharge my batteries, before getting back to the serious work of my marketing degree.

As I drove out to my interview, I turned off the highway, exactly as directed. There was the sign I'd been told to look for; a small, weather-beaten wooden arrow, pointing me down the narrow gravel road, that led into the sparsely wooded area.

"Spencer's Canyon" it said, a name that meant nothing to me, as I had grown up well over a thousand miles east. I followed the road up, and over a ridge, before it curled around a tight hairpin and began a descent into the entrance of the canyon, completely invisible from the main highway. As I drove further into the wilderness, the forest began to close in, and I realized that I was driving at last beside a rocky, turbulent stream. That stream, like an oasis in the sandstone that dominated the area, fed the thickening foliage, eventually blocking the canyon walls from view.

After a fifteen minute journey, I found myself at a fork in the road. To the left, the gravel continued. To the right, a more civilized strip of pavement began, and beside it a more civilized, ornate sign read "Spencer's Canyon Resort and Spa".

I had arrived.

Among my first thoughts, I noted just how much of a pain in the butt this commute was going to be, if I got the job. Almost an hour out of town, it was far enough that the distance had to be considered in the decision. I realized that I was getting a little ahead of myself, almost looking for a reason to tank the interview.

"Don't do that," I chastised myself. "Get the job first, then give it a chance, before you quit. You might even like it here."

As if on cue, I rounded a curve in the driveway, and was greeted by the main building of the resort. It was clearly designed to impress, and I wasn't immune.

Local stone and soaring, rough-hewn timbers framed glass, reflecting the thick forest around. It looked at a glance very rustic, but hinted at luxury inside. I was definitely curious.

The parking lot was quite full, with about fifty cars neatly lined up in rows, but I found a slot and parked. Right next to my spot were extended stalls, longer than a normal car. I initially thought they were for trucks, but painted on the asphalt when I walked past, it said 'limo parking'.

"Limo parking? What kind of place is this, anyway?" I asked myself softly.

As I walked in the front door, I noticed that while the mixture of luxury and rustic charm remained, the scale of the building was reduced to a more comfortable, human level. It actually felt... Cozy.

Across the lobby, an attractive blonde made eye contact from behind the reception desk.

"How may I help you?" she smiled, as I stopped in front of her.

"I have an interview, at 10, with Mrs. Spencer?" I ventured.

"Ah, yes. Mr. Gibson," she replied, tapping a few keys.

"Yes, Scott," I nodded, taking in her form. She had very pretty eyes, and a tight, fit-looking body. Nice breasts, too. Her white blouse fit her curves snugly, and a logo adorned the upper curve of her left breast, along with her name tag.

"Take a seat, please," she smiled, nodding toward the comfortable-looking leather couches in the lobby. "I'll call you when she's ready for you."

"Thank you, Alicia," I smiled. Those couches really were comfy, as I found out when I took a place on one of them. A book on the end table caught my attention. It was a history of the area, going back hundreds of years. I was just getting engrossed in it, when Alicia touched my shoulder, leaning in from behind. I turned, and found a nice peek at her cleavage waiting for me.

"Mrs. Spencer is ready to see you," she smiled, her blue eyes sparkling. I put the book down, and followed her, as she led me down a hallway, to a large wooden door. She knocked.

"Come in," I heard from inside, and my guide opened the door.

"Thank you, Alicia," the woman inside said happily, holding her hand out to me, as Alicia made her exit. "I'm Elena Spencer, the manager here. Thank you for coming all the way out here, Mr. Gibson."

I took her hand. It was soft, and warm, and gave me a chance to check her out.

Maybe it was a natural offshoot of being the manager of a spa, but I found her extremely attractive. I'd guess she was in her mid thirties, with long, dark brown hair that reached well down her back. She wore a knee-length black skirt, and the same white blouse Alicia was wearing, with the 'Spencer's Canyon' logo over the breast, although the breast it was over was much larger than Alicia's. She was tall, voluptuous, and curvy, and smiling at me as she ushered me to sit on her couch. I sat on one end, and she arranged herself on the other.

"So, Scott..." she began, reading my application. "What makes you want to work at Spencer's Canyon?"

"Honestly, Ma'am, I don't really know," I replied, watching her cross her long legs. "Curiosity, I suppose. I'd never heard of this place before, and the ad in the paper didn't specify."

"Yes. That's intentional. We have something of a legendary reputation, locally," she smiled. "Last time we advertised, we got two-hundred applications for five jobs. All the locals believe the rumours."

"Rumours?" I asked.

"Pure foolishness," she giggled, dismissing the question. "Since you are not familiar with our resort, perhaps I should fill you in..."

I listened as she laid out the history, parts of which I had read before Alicia brought me in. All the way back to the beginning, in the mid-seventeen-hundreds, when a prospector named Clayton Spencer first explored the canyon that now bore his name. He followed the stream upward until he found himself at its source, a small spring that fed into a tiny, secluded lake. He laid claim to the whole canyon, a claim that had been grandfathered in by past governments.

"That's how it came to be in my family," Mrs. Spencer explained.

"So, it's more than a coincidence that your name is Spencer," I smiled. "You're more than just the manager here, aren't you?"

"Yes," she smiled back, tapping her fingertip to her plump lips in a 'shhhh' gesture. "I try to keep a low profile. It's better for the staff if they don't know I'm the sole owner, now, since my husband passed."

"Of course. I'll keep it to myself," I nodded.

"Anyway, over the years, people started to enjoy both the spring and the lake," she continued. "A few cabins became a hotel, then a resort, and now a resort and spa. We have forty rooms on the two upper levels for overnight guests, twenty day-rooms on the lower level around the pool, and ten bungalows sprinkled throughout the forest nearby. The pool, hot tubs and cool spas are all fed from the spring. The water has certain... therapeutic... properties, that the guests enjoy greatly."

She paused, and gave me a long, lingering look, her eyes flitting from my feet, across my body, and up to my face again. I wasn't a bodybuilder by any means, but highschool football had packed on some muscle at just the right time. At six foot three, and two hundred pounds, I was relatively confident in my own skin.

"I have a good feeling about you, Scott," she smiled. "I'm going to put you on the short list, for a second interview, in a couple of days."

"Thank you. May I ask, what is the actual job?" I asked.

"Customer service is very important to us, here, Scott. We ask all our staff to treat guests like family. To that end," she smiled, eyeing me intensely, "you will be doing several tasks. I like to have interchangeable staff members, so you'll be trained in various positions, from reception, to pool duty, to food services. It keeps work from getting stale. We can talk about it more when we meet again, but right now, I have another applicant to meet with."

With that, she stood elegantly, smoothing her skirt as she did, and extended her hand again.

"It's been very nice to meet you, Scott," she nodded, as I took her hand. She shook mine firmly, causing a perceptible jiggle in her chest. "Please see Alicia on your way out, and set up a time to come back."

I found myself in the hallway, then the lobby, where Alicia greeted me with a smile.

"So? It went well, huh," she giggled. "I'm supposed to book a time for Wednesday afternoon, for Mrs. Spencer to show you around. I think we might be working together."

I suppose I could make the commute for a while. At least long enough to take a shot at getting the lovely blonde into a much more personal, hopefully horizontal situation.

One can only dream.

***

Now that I knew the way, the trip out to the resort didn't seem so long, and on Wednesday afternoon, I drove out again for my second interview. A few less cars populated the parking area, but I took the same spot, beside the limo parking.

Walking through the front door, I was surprised to see Mrs. Spencer in the lobby, chatting with a few of the guests. She looked up from her conversation, and smiled, tilting her head to the side, a subtle 'wait over there' gesture. I stepped to the side, and leaned against the wall.

"Thank you for coming back, Scott. You're early," she smiled, when she approached me a couple of minutes later. "I like that. Follow me. I'd like to show you around while we talk."

So, walk we did, slowly, while she pointed out features of the building and property, and I listened, taking the opportunity to observe her. Today's skirt seemed a couple of inches shorter than the one she wore the first day, but was similarly coloured and equally snug over her hips and sexy rear-end.

There was plenty to see on this guided tour, and in this case, I'm not talking about Mrs. Spencer. Alicia was out on the pool deck today, acting as part-lifeguard, part-guest relations specialist, and clad in a hot little navy-blue maillot suit that clung to her body nicely. She was looking after about a dozen guests, all women, who were lounging around the pool. The pool itself was quite beautiful, with clear, sparkling water that looked so refreshing. A small waterfall at one end of the pool was a symbolic entrance for the fresh water, mimicking the spring that was its true source.

I noticed that everyone seemed quite happy to be here, which was logical. I also noticed that nearly all the women were on the attractive side, whatever their ages, and that they all seemed to be watching me walking with Mrs. Spencer. She exchanged pleasantries with a few guests as we went, while I hovered in the background, feeling eyes on me.

"Over here," she gestured, as we continued on the tour, "is the hot tub. Again, the spring is the source of our water. All we add here is temperature, and bubbles."

There were four more women in the tub, chatting and enjoying the water and company. The tub could easily accommodate five or six more, so the ladies were spread out, using the jets to massage their bodies, and sending bubbles cascading upward around themselves. I noticed a fountain of water shooting up through one woman's cleavage, and wondered just exactly where that jet was pointed. Mrs. Spencer smiled, as we moved on.

"We pride ourselves on being a full service spa," she said softly. "A guest visiting for the day is assigned one of our day-rooms," she pointed, as we passed the open glass doors. It was essentially a well appointed, very comfortable cubicle that opened toward the pool deck. "A guest can rest in their room, use the pool and tub, and wait for their appointment time."

"Appointments?" I asked.

"Manicure, pedicure..." she elaborated.

"Massage?" I asked.

"Of course. Wouldn't be a spa without that, would it?" she giggled. "As I said, full service. We pamper our guests. Mani, pedi, facial, massage, food service, bar service, and even a hair salon, so they look and feel fabulous when they leave."

Our walk continued, and we turned away from the main building, following a stone path into the cool shade of the forest.

"I want to show you our bungalows, for longer term patrons," she smiled as she led us along slowly. "We have hiking trails that run all the way up into the mountains, if a guest is feeling adventurous. I imagine a massage is a great way to recover from a ten-mile hike."

The silence of the forest was remarkable, obviously a big reason for the bungalows. Privacy.

"So, tell me more about yourself, Scott?" she asked. "Other than what's on your résumé, what makes you tick? You're in school?"

"Yes, but I'm taking a break," I replied. "I need a chance to recharge."

"Well, I think we can help you with that," she smiled. "We encourage our staff to use the facilities, so they understand the services fully. We even have a small dormitory for the service staff, to make it easier to meet our guests needs. I know it's a long drive out here, especially if you have to do it everyday."

"Really? That's neat," I laughed. "I may never want to leave."

"If you have a girlfriend, she can even use the facilities once a month," she smiled. "Do you have a girlfriend, Scott?"

"Not currently," I shook my head. I suppose, once word got out that I was working here, a few classmates might be interested in a treatment or two, and my prospects might look brighter.

We had arrived at one of the bungalows, a squat, rustic structure among the trees. Mrs. Spencer pulled a card out of her pocket, and swiped it in the electronic lock. She opened the door.

I was immediately struck by the difference between the outside and the inside. Inside, a layer of extreme luxury covered the walls and floor, completely opposed to the outer appearance.

"Wow," I whispered, feeling the silence engulf me.

"I thought this might be a good place to finish the interview," she said softly, taking a seat on yet another comfortable couch. "Sit, please?"

I sat, and waited, while she looked me over once more. Her legs were crossed again, and she was bouncing her foot, with her high-heeled shoe dangling off her toes. I glanced at the slice of smooth thigh that peeked out of the slit in her skirt.

"Scott, I have a hypothetical question for you," she smiled, resting her chin on her hand, braced on the back of the couch. "You have noticed, I'm sure, that our clientele is almost exclusively female, yes?"

"Yes, Ma'am," I nodded.

"Many of these women are quite wealthy. They are accustomed to getting their own way, and some of them expect, shall we say... a little something extra... when they visit us. So, my question to you is this; a guest makes it clear she wants you to provide that something extra. What do you do?"

Something extra? Wait... Are we talking about...?

"Is this a test?" I asked. "Most resorts have a policy against staff-guest fraternization."

"That's true, but we're not most resorts," she purred, leaning closer. Her free hand played with the silver necklace that hung around her slender throat, dragging it out of her cleavage. "Remember, I said we pride ourselves on being a full service facility, so..."

"Are you kidding?" I asked again.

"Do I look like I'm kidding?" she asked, sliding closer still. Somehow, a button had come undone on her blouse, and a bit more delicious cleavage peeked out. "A woman guest says she wants to have sex with you... And you say?"

"Um, yes?" I stumbled, my head spinning.

"A bit more conviction, please?" she directed.

"Yes, Ma'am," I smiled.

"That's better," she nodded, popping another button. White, lacey cups supported her substantial breasts. "So, just to practice and clarify... I'm a guest, and I have a request for you. Scott, I'd like you to come back to my room, so we can have sex."

"Yes, Ma'am!" I nodded.

"I want you to fuck me, Scott. I want you to take your cock, and pound my lonely pussy, until I scream," she growled, now only inches away, with her breasts brushing my chest. She licked her lips.

"Certainly, Mrs. Spencer," I replied, looking into her eyes.

"Elena," she breathed. "Call me Elena. Now kiss me."

"Mmmmmm, with pleasure, Elena," I sighed, and pressed my lips to hers.

I assumed this was still part of the interview. If she was telling me the truth... that some of the clientele here was horny, and wanted relief, and that she wasn't just talking about herself... well, let's just say my motivation to get the job had risen, along with my dick.

At twenty-two, I had spent the last few years with girls around my own age. Elena was my first older woman, and if this kiss was any indication, I might want to think about shifting my focus. She was sucking on my tongue, as she crawled up to straddle my lap, dragging her skirt up to allow her legs to reach wide enough. I had my hands on her rump, and she started to pull her blouse out of her waistband.

"Please, allow me," I whispered, grasping her hands to stop her. She gave me a wry grin, and nodded, turning her attention to caressing my chest. I smiled back, and leaned up to nuzzle her neck.

"Oh, fuck, I think you're hired," she groaned. "I had a feeling you'd be good. Have you ever had a mature woman before?"

"No," I answered, as I trailed kisses across her collarbone.

"Hmmmm, then maybe we're both in for a treat," she moaned. "I hope you'll enjoy me."

"I'm sure I will," I breathed, nibbling her neck further. My hands had moved forward, and were unbuttoning the few remaining fasteners of her blouse. Now completely open, I dragged it off her shoulders, down her arms, and off, leaving her leaning back on her hands. Her bra was very feminine, and the lacey cups I noticed earlier were very full, holding her large, lovely orbs up and out. She shook her shoulders, jiggling those magnificent breasts at me.

"Are you a breast man, Scott?" she asked, a playful pout on her face. "Do you like my tits? Do you want me to wrap them tight around your cock, and let you fuck them? Do you want to shoot your cum all over them?"

"Such silly questions," I smiled, rubbing my face in the cleft of soft flesh between the aforementioned spectacular jugs. My fingers nudged the straps outward, easing them off over her shoulders, and letting the bra go slack. Her breathing pressed her breasts out, filling the cups and pushing them lower, then letting my eyes see the darkened, puckered texture of her areolas. A few more breaths, and her tall, erect nipples also came out into view.

"Oh, Elena, your breasts are beautiful," I said softly, cupping the resilient globes in my hands. "Absolutely beautiful."

"Thank you," she sighed, reaching behind her back. With practiced skill, she let her bra drop off completely. "Please, suck my nipples? I love it when my nipples get sucked, and gnawed on. It gets me so wet."

"Mmmmmm," I replied, my mouth already occupied with more important tasks than talking. I felt her hand gently caressing my hair while I suckled her dutifully, and she moaned her appreciation. Her nipples were a delicious treat for me, and grew stiffer in my mouth as I nipped them gently and tugged them with my teeth.

"Oh god, Scott, that feels so good," she groaned, "and so does this lump, down here," she added, grinding her pussy down on the hard erection her seduction had caused.

I decided it was time to move this very enjoyable activity to a more comfortable location. I grabbed Elena's ass with both hands, and managed to stand, holding her up while she giggled and wrapped herself around me, clinging tight. I crossed the room in a few steps, and laid her gently on her back, then rested gently atop her on the large, welcoming bed. We kissed again, and rolled around, pawing at each other in need. Her skirt was bunched up around her waist, and my hand found its way between her legs.

Elena's panties matched the bra which still laid on the living room floor, and when I palmed her mound, I felt how damp they were. I also felt the heat of her arousal, and moved down her body to give her sex a closer investigation. She quickly laid back, and spread her legs wide, eagerly awaiting my next move.

I could smell her now, as I stopped with my face inches from the source of the intoxicating juices that soaked her lacey panties. I kissed the damp fabric, and licked the surface, tasting her musky sweetness for the first time.

"Oh, Scott, yes please?" she moaned, undulating her hips excitedly. "Eat my pussy. Lick it, suck my clit, whatever you want to do!"

Well, the first thing I wanted to do is get those sexy little panties out of the way, and to that end, I started to tug them over her hips. She helped, lifting her bottom from the bed, then pointing her long legs straight at the ceiling to allow me to slide them up and off. I tossed them over my shoulder, and waited for her to show me her most personal body part. She was looking down at me, past the wonderful curves of her breasts, waiting for me to ask. A playful arch of her eyebrows completed the smouldering glance.

"Please, Elena? Please let me lick your pussy?" I asked, playing along.

A smile immediately broke out on her face, spreading as wide as her legs did, and giving me the view I wanted. Not shaved, but very neatly trimmed, dark curls framed her slick, slippery lips. Those lips pouted open, swollen and excited, surrounding her bright pink inner folds. She was still watching me closely, awaiting my touch.

I made her wait, inhaling her scent deeply while kissing the smooth skin of her inner thighs. Those thighs were quivering with desire, but I stayed away from the target zone, caressing her legs with my hands. She squirmed on the bed, and finally voiced her desperation.

"Since I'm your new boss, I could order you to lick me," she threatened.

"Mmmmmm, yes, you could," I smiled, rubbing my face across her thigh. "Is that what you want to do?"

"Ummm, not really," she groaned, still squirming. "I prefer to let my staff do their jobs their own way."

"So, this is my job?" I asked, kissing closer to her fragrant gash.

"Today it is," she moaned. "Other duties, as required."

"I forgot to ask... is there a benefit package?" I teased.

"Oh fuck! Just lick my benefit package already, will you?!" she gasped, clawing at my shoulders. "You're killing me!"

"Yes, Ma'am," I replied, and speared her succulent snatch with my tongue. My part in the conversation ended, as I was busy, but she carried on.

"Fuck, yes! It's about time! Mmmmmm, yes, Scott, that's a good boy... Lick my pussy! MmmmnnnaaaAAAHHHHHNNNNNN! Yes! Oh yes! Right there, honey, right on my clit! Oh, fuck YES!"

She was very chatty, continuing her running commentary while I probed her wetness with my tongue and fingers. She grew juicier and hotter by the minute, and was soon dripping with her natural honey. I pulled my fingers out, licking her very tasty juices off them before returning to explore her further.

I think one of the reasons men have a problem understanding women is that we expect them to be the same as each other. We learn one thing from one woman, but are frustrated when it doesn't work on others as hoped. Some women are demonstrative and loud during sex, others quiet and submissive, but both can enjoy it equally. That enjoyment can take many forms.

I had a girlfriend once who told me that just because she didn't scream every time I touched her, it didn't mean she wasn't having fun. It was true, because when she finally came, it was a spectacular outpouring of emotion, verbiage, and physical release.

So, when she stopped talking, I wasn't concerned. Her body was still telling me all I needed to know, and I could sense the water building behind her figurative dam. That wave of pleasure was growing rapidly, until, seemingly without warning, it crested. What started as a moan, became a scream.

"Mnahnnnnohmygod! Oh god! OH FUCK! I'M CUMMING! YESSSSSS!" she shrieked, arching her back. As quickly as it hit, the orgasm passed, but that apparently did nothing to diminish the intensity. It left her gasping for air, her chest heaving, softly groaning in ecstasy.

Peeking up her body from below, I could see her head tossed back, eyes closed. Her breasts quivered with each tortured breath, and she was tugging at her pointy nipples. I let her breathing ease somewhat, then dragged my tongue up between her completely soaked labia again.

"Oh god," she croaked, her voice hoarse from screaming. "Not again,"

"Yes," I chuckled, from between her thighs. "Again."

"Oh my god, what have I done?" she giggled, her hands in her hair.

"You gave me a job to do," I smiled, licking her from bottom to top again. "I always try to do my best. I think I made a few mistakes the first time."

"I'm not sure I can survive your best," she laughed, "and I don't think an orgasm like that is a mistake. Let's not set the bar too high on the first try. I might come to expect it everyday."

"I'm sorry," I smiled, ready to go at it again. "Did you say 'cum everyday'?"

Getting her to cum the second time was even more fun than the first one. Her pussy was positively soaking wet, with plenty of delicious gravy dribbling out for me to clean up, and being sensitized by the first time, she responded much quicker. Suddenly her thighs clamped down on my ears, and she screeched again, gushing in my mouth. Her hand, previously tangled in my hair to keep me close, began to pull my face away from her vagina, just in case I had any intention of going for round three.

"Okay, you, are... definitely hired," she panted. I wiped my chin, and crawled up the bed beside her. She opened her eyes slowly, and smiled. "Definitely."

"Thanks, boss," I laughed, as she rolled on her side and kissed me. She giggled when she tasted herself on my lips. Snuggling into my side, she palmed my bulging crotch.

"May I ask you a personal question?" I queried.

"Sure," she replied, sliding the zipper of my pants down. "No point in being shy, now."

"Do you do this with all your employees?" I asked, as her hand found its way into my pants.

"You mean this, um, special training?" she giggled.

"Yes," I sighed, as she unfastened my belt and laid them open. She had rolled up on her hip, and was now sliding my pants down my thighs.

"No, I don't," she answered, her eyes on my straining underwear. "Just the ones that I like, and only when I'm horny, which, I'll admit, is quite often. My husband had a difficult time keeping up with me, and now that he's gone, I find myself especially preoccupied with sex." She hooked a finger into the waistband of my jockeys, and tugged, causing my erection to spring straight up at her.

"Oh my! Well, hello there! I think we're going to be very good friends," she smiled patting the head of my cock.

"How long were you married?" I asked, watching her hand wrap around my shaft.

"Twenty-eight years," she replied, softly. "It would have been thirty in October."

"You're kidding, right?" I laughed, quickly doing the math, and coming up with at least forty-six. "What? You were married at twelve?"

"Ha! No, nineteen, actually," she smiled, batting her eyelashes at me. "I'm forty-seven, Scott! My daughter is twenty-seven."

"Wow. Maybe there's something about the water here," I countered, "because I would have guessed thirty-five or so."

"Kissing up for a raise, already?" she giggled, stroking my shaft slowly. She bent, and kissed the head.

"Mmmmm, um, no," I said. "Just logical, that's all. It's a health spa. That could be the reason you look so young."

"That's not the rumour," she breathed, licking the length of the underside.

"Oh god, um, no," I gasped.

"Hmmmm, you said you hadn't heard the rumours," she recalled, tonguing my balls.

"Fuck! Um, no, I hadn't," I said, "but you were so cryptic about them, I asked my local friends that grew up in town. They call this place 'the fountain of lust'."

"Mmmmm hmmm, but I don't believe my libido comes from the water," she whispered, then sucked the first few inches into her mouth. It felt incredible, but was just a tease. "Then again, I've been bathing in the spring my whole life. I may be biased."

Elena looked up at me from between my legs, her head tilted to one side. She glanced again at my cock, which she was pumping slowly with her hand. The unspoken question; what would I like her to do with her mouth? She could talk, or suck me to the gates of heaven, but not both. At least, not at the same time. It was my choice to make.

I chose heaven. She smiled, and opened wide, engulfing nearly half of my thick erection immediately. Instantly, the questions that remained in my mind lost their importance. The source of her libido did not matter; only that she quench those desires with me, right here, in this cabin, and right now.

Elena's long, dark hair swung from side to side as her head bobbed, claiming fractionally more of my length with each cycle. Deeper and deeper she went, until the whole of my cock slid down her wet, sucking throat, and her lips met my own trimmed pubes. I felt the soft fullness of her breasts against my thighs, and she looked up once again, her dark eyes burning. She slid back, letting my saliva-coated penis escape for a moment.

"I'm torn," she purred, staring into my eyes. "On one hand, I'd like to just suck this lovely thing until you explode in my mouth. I bet your cum is just yummy. On the other, my pussy could really use a good fucking. So tell me, Scott. If I give you a nice blowjob, all the way to the logical conclusion, and you give me a mouthful of your warm, sticky seed, just how long is my pussy going to be waiting for you to stuff her full, and make me scream some more?"

"Under normal circumstances, about twenty minutes," I told her, news that made her pout a bit. "Then again, I've never been with a woman as sexy and desirable as you. I think I can do better."

"Hmmmm," she smiled, gripping my cock again. "With compliments like that, I think it's worth the risk. Go ahead, honey. Cum in my mouth. Give me all you've got. Then you can fuck my brains out. Deal?"

"You're the boss," I laughed. I think I might really like this job.

"Yes, I am," she nodded, and swallowed my length again. It only took her a few seconds to have my cock safely back down her throat, and she moaned happily, sending vibrations up through my core.

"Oh, yes, Elena, that feels so good," I groaned, gently grabbing her hair. I wanted to ask her so many things, about the spa, and my additional tasks, and how long she'd been subjecting new employees to this comprehensive interview process. I even wondered if the female staff went through it, as I pictured Alicia in my place, legs spread wide for Elena's tongue. That image stuck, and coupled with her practiced skills as a cocksucker, had me close to the edge quite quickly.

Her mouth was wonderfully wet, warm, and had just the right amount of suction to bring me to a boil. She wasn't in a hurry, obviously enjoying herself nearly as much as I was. Her hands gently fondled my balls, and added sensuous strokes to the hard shaft every time she pulled back to breathe. This was no mere blowjob. Rather, she was caught up in providing pleasure at a level I'd never known; a level beyond the comprehension of girls my own age.

Three cheers for older, more experienced women! Hip, hip, hooray! Hip, hip, hooray! Hip, hip...

"Oh fuck, YES!" I grunted, as her fabulous attention to detail pushed me over the brink. I felt the familiar warm spasm, and cum racing through my plumbing. "Get ready! I'm CUMMING!" I added, grabbing her head firmly. If she'd changed her mind about swallowing, it was too late, because I had already started to spurt down her throat, and my grip was not going to allow her to move.

"Yes, yes, yes! Oh, yes! That's so good! Suck my cock! Suck it deep! Suck all the cum out of my balls, you nasty girl!"

For her part, Elena gulped and sucked happily, moaning and giggling at my commentary, and drawing out all I had to give her. She pulled me back in, down her throat again, where her swallowing action provided a massaging sensation I'd never felt before. Then again, I'd never been deep-throated before, either, nor been given such a spectacular blowjob. This was new territory for me, and I was surprised when my cock stayed hard.

"Oh, you marvelous, wonderful young man! You're still stiff, and thick, and long! I just can't believe my luck!" she moaned, scrambling off the bed. She unzipped her skirt, and slid it off, then hurriedly rummaged though the bedside table. She came out with a condom, which she ripped open and rolled onto my still erect penis. She swung her leg over me, and guided it into her sopping wet cunt.

"Mmmmmm, yes, that's it. All the way inside," she sighed, settling, fully impaled, on my hips. "You haven't even started using the waters yet, and already you're a stud! My guests are going to love you, but today, you're all mine! Fuck me, Scott! Do me hard! I love getting fucked!"

"Why don't you start, while I play with these?" I suggested, palming her big, hanging globes. She smiled and leaned forward, resting the softness on my chest, then kissing me gently.

"Sounds like fun," she said quietly, and began to manipulate her hips up and down smoothly. She shook her shoulders, jiggling her tits in my hands.

I gazed up at her beautiful face. No woman would ever claim to be older than she really was, so I had to assume she actually was a forty-seven year old mother of at least one daughter, who was herself five years older than me.

Hardly a line marred that pretty face, which was turned upward, eyes closed in pleasure as she rode my dick slowly. Her hair was so long, and shiny, not at all like the ever shorter hairstyles older women seemed to gravitate to. My hands roamed her body, feeling again the firm, muscular tone of her thighs and ass, and the slender nature of her waist. She was in spectacular shape, and that's without commenting on her chest.

But, as she had quite correctly guessed, a woman's breasts held a special fascination for me, and hers were absolutely beautiful. I hefted them, feeling the weight and firmness of what I'd guess were at least double-D's, if not bigger. They were certainly natural, and astoundingly perky for a woman of her age and size. I leaned up, and captured one of her stiff nipples, drawing it out to full erection in my mouth. My tongue played with the long, rubbery nub, while she moaned and ruffled my hair.

"Mmmmmm, that's nice," she purred. "It makes my clit tingle, and with your big cock inside me, that tingle is very exciting. You're going to make me cum again, Scott."

"I thought that was the general idea," I answered, releasing my grip to speak, but quickly re-establishing the connection.

"Yes, of course, but most men seem to lose interest in their lover's pleasure once they've had their fun," she said. "At least, that's always been my experience. Even my husband was like that."

I bit her nipple slightly, causing a giggling yip from her. The giggle continued as I rolled us over, taking control.

"You're my boss, and you told me to fuck you," I reminded her. "Besides, you're the hottest women I've ever met. I'm not stopping until neither of us can walk straight."

"Oooooooooo, I like the sound of that!" she smiled. Her thighs came up, and she wrapped her legs around my hips. "I'm ready. Do me."

I'd had a few jobs in my young life. Fast food, retail, cutting grass... that sort of thing. Certainly nothing as interesting as this one was already appearing to be. I was balls deep, in my new boss's pussy, and I hadn't even started work yet. I can't say that had ever happened before, although I would happily have done this with Mrs. Fillion instead of cutting her lawn. She was a pretty hot, older woman, too.

Mrs. Spencer kissed me, her naked body absorbing the firm thrusts of my hips as I fucked her slippery cunt eagerly. Now that she had made me cum once, I knew from past experience that she was in for a long ride. It seemed like she was fine with that.

So was I. My first mature lover was proving to be a wonderful experience. She was a far more active participant than most of my previous partners. Young girls were too self centred, and too inexperienced, a strange combination in the bedroom. Yeah, they had lovely, young bodies, but Elena's spectacular figure was their equal, and she knew how to use it.

Oh boy, did she ever.

"Yes, Scott, that's it," she grunted, as I pounded her into the mattress. I was up, on hands and knees, giving it to her hard. Her tits were jiggling merrily before my eyes, and she knew I was enjoying the view, adding a little shoulder action to her routine with a smile. "After you make me cum again," she said, "you can fuck my big tits, and cum all over them."

I had to admit, as much fun as fucking her pussy was, the prospect of sliding my cock between her big, beautiful breasts held a special appeal. I'd never been with a woman as amply endowed as Elena was, and my bustiest girlfriend had been unable to squeeze her tits together tight enough, despite her best efforts. They were simply too small to get the job done.

Elena, with her two, soft handfuls of fabulous fun, had more than enough to provide cleavage that made my mouth water. I wondered if those boobs would feel as good around my cock as I imagined.

Fortunately, finding out was only a single orgasm away, and her previous blowjob had taken my urgency away, letting me give it to her hard and fast without worrying about cumming too soon. The rubber was helping in that respect, as well.

I needed the help, because Elena was undoubtedly the most exciting woman I had ever seen, let alone had the privilege of bedding. I found it especially gratifying that a woman her age, with her experience, found sex with me so pleasurable. It showed clearly on her face, and in the desire of her touch. She was enjoying it, and that made it even hotter.

Being our first time together, I couldn't be sure, but I took the squeaky grunt that began to escape her lips in time with my hard, slamming thrusts as a sign of that enjoyment. She was getting close again, and her eyes closed. She bit her lip, and tossed her head from side to side, while her hands clawed at my chest and shoulders. I fucked her harder still, and was rewarded with a squeal that seemed to begin deep in her core, before exploding out of her throat.

"NnnnnnnnaaaaahHHHHHHHHHGGGGNNNN!" she screeched, her face and chest blushing red with the exertion. Her mouth hung open as she fell limp under me, breathing heavily. She patted my chest. "Your... turn. Fuck... my tits."

By the time I pulled out of her pussy and skinned off the condom, she had propped her head up on a pillow, and had her breasts in hand, ready to squash them together around my shaft. She spat in the inviting expanse of cleavage, and arched an eyebrow suggestively. I straddled her chest on my knees.

"Mmmmmm," I moaned, as she closed her breasts, sandwiching my cock in a soft embrace of flesh. It was a heavenly sensation, and if you've never had the pleasure, I suggest you find yourself a willing, busty partner and fuck those tits as I was doing with Elena.

It's a difficult feeling to describe. Soft, yet resilient and firm. Warm, smooth, delightful, and very exciting. I think it might be the visual component that I enjoy the most. Watching my cock disappear between her tits in one end, and peek out at the top of her cleavage, and be greeted by her tongue... so sexy and naughty.

Sliding back and forth in that slippery slice, I could feel the tingle building.

"Cum for me, Scott," she smiled, then wagged her tongue. "Do it. Cum on my face and tits. Treat me like a slut."

So, I did, spurting hot semen all over my new boss, leaving her glazed with a thick layer of stickiness that she seemed to enjoy cleaning up, and rubbing into her skin. A few errant streaks had landed in her dark hair, but she didn't complain, simply licking her fingers as she headed toward the bathroom.

***

I was still laying in bed, soaking in the events of the day. There was a lot to take in.

I had a new job, now. I had to remind myself that not every woman who came here was going to be inviting me into her bed. While I could say that just about every guest I'd seen today was relatively attractive, there were a few that were just... you know... old. What if one of them wanted me? It was part of my job to suck it up, and fuck the old bag.

Although, Elena was certainly older, wasn't she? But she was gorgeous, and looked younger than she was, and was a demon in bed.

Maybe the others would have hidden talents?

Elena interrupted my thoughts by walking into the room, from the bathroom. She was naked, and towelling her wet hair. I found myself hoping I'd have more afternoons like this with her, as I watched her retrieve her scattered items of clothing. Those breasts... so big, so soft, so sexy. My attention was riveted on her.

"So, why don't you start on Monday?" she asked, finding her panties in the corner where I had tossed them aimlessly. "Gives you a few days to get your stuff together. Would you like a spot in the dorm, so you're not paying rent at school while you're here?"

"Hmmmm. I hadn't thought of that," I replied. "I suppose that would be a good idea, wouldn't it?"

Elena smoothed her panties in place, and sat on the edge of the bed.

"One of the few times in life when financial prudence and convenience might be a good thing," she smiled. "I can't say I'd mind having you close by. Sharing you with my guests might be difficult, although I'm sure you'll be good for business. I only hope all the new hires do as well."

"I was curious about that," I smiled, watching her slip her bra back into place with the skill of repetition. "So, um... who else did you hire? Did they get interviewed like this?"

"Not all of them," she grinned, and kissed me again. "Just you, and one of the girls. The others can figure it out as they go."

"One of the girls, huh?" I giggled.

"Mmmmmm, yes," Elena nodded, making a satisfied face. "My god, she made me cum so hard! She really knows how to use her tongue. You're almost as good as she was."

"Almost?" I pouted.

"Hey, for a man, you're fantastic!" she explained. "I'm sure no woman can jerk you off like you can. When you have 24 hour access to the equipment, you get good, whether it's you with your dick, or a woman with her pussy."

"I guess I can accept being almost as good as the best you've had," I laughed.

"Don't rest on your laurels," she smiled, buttoning her blouse. "There's always something new to learn."

"I think I'll like learning all you have to teach," I said.

"Good. Have fun."

***

I did indeed start on Monday, shadowing Alicia at reception. She definitely gave me the impression we would be sharing a bed sometime soon. On Tuesday, I was trained by Rachelle, out by the pool, and she gave me the same vibe. Since I'd never had this much of an effect on women before, I began to wonder if the local rumours about this place might be more than just rumours.

Was there really something in the water? Did women really become sex-crazed from bathing in it? And, if so, and I was benefitting from those effects... did I care?

***

Thursday afternoon, I got my answers. Well, maybe not to the first two questions, but certainly the last. Whatever the reasons why, Sylvie Newton, a day guest at the spa, was giving me the eye.

I was happy to return the attention, as Mrs. Sylvie Newton, thirty-nine year old trophy wife to a much older man, was something special to behold.

I say 'trophy', because she clearly was one. Tall, golden, and posed just so, she married her husband for his money, accrued by a lifetime of business successes. They had been married over twenty years, and she had provided him with two children; a son who was just finishing high school, on his way to college and joining his father's business; and a daughter, who took after her mother, both in looks and ambition. A goldigger in training, she was tormenting local high school boys with her burgeoning figure.

As for her own figure, Sylvie was a naturally statuesque teenager, who knew her appearance was her meal ticket. When Charles Newton, already a man in his early fifties, became hopelessly infatuated with the sexy blonde girl, she had ignored her parents objections and married him, knowing she had hit the jackpot.

Now, with her husband ageing and her sexual appetite at its peak, she took advantage of her power in the marriage. He knew of her extracurricular activities, but figured it was a small price to pay for the last twenty years of happiness. She'd even had a little work done, to erase the signs of wear and restore the perkiness to her substantial chest.

How could I possibly know all this, you ask?

Simple. She told me. Unapologetically, and almost proudly, she had spent almost an hour this afternoon telling me her history, all while flaunting her luscious, curvaceous body in a classic black bikini that left little to the imagination. That was earlier, before she left the pool area for her massage appointment. Now, she was back, clad in the luxurious robe offered to guests, and lounging in her cabana. She saw me, peeked over her sunglasses, and beckoned me closer with a perfectly manicured fingertip.

"Yes, Mrs. Newton? Did you enjoy your massage?" I asked, as I stopped a few feet away, in the shade of her cabana.

"Oh, yes," she smiled, resting her head back on the pillow. "The masseuse... Erika, I think was her name... She has wonderful hands. She touched me in all the right places." Sylvie lifted her head again, and removed her sunglasses, then continued. "I do mean... All... the right places. She gave me a very happy ending, if you know what I mean?"

"Yes, Ma'am," I laughed. "I understand completely."

"Then you also understand that, as lovely as it was to have her young, talented hands on my breasts, and sliding into my vagina," she whispered, "the orgasm she gave me has left me hungry for something more... masculine. I'd very much like you to provide that. Would you like to join me, in my room, Scott? Would you like to feel my breasts, against you, perhaps wrapped around your cock? Mmmmmm, I think I'd like that. A nice hard cock, sliding between my tits. I want you to fuck me, Scott, any way you'd like to. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, Ma'am," I smiled. Her eyes fell on the bulge the conversation had started growing in my shorts.

"Lovely. Simply lovely," she smiled, licking her lips. "Be a dear, and fetch a bottle of champagne on your way back, will you?"

"Yes, Ma'am," I repeated. "Do you have a particular vintage in mind?"

"No," she sighed, standing elegantly. The robe parted, giving me a sample glimpse of her breasts, and the long, sensuous smoothness of her leg. She adjusted the robe with a grin, and turned away. "Just make it expensive. I like my husband to know that I enjoy my time here, and an obscenely expensive bottle should do that. I'll be waiting for you."

"Yes, Ma'am," I nodded, already moving in the direction of the bar. I swung past the pool station, and told the other staff member I was going to be busy for a while.

"Lucky bastard," Linda smiled. "Have fun."

A few minutes later, with a three hundred dollar bottle on a tray along with one flute, I entered Mrs. Newton's room. She was seductively arranged on the daybed, one leg drawn up, with her arm across the back. The robe was untied, but still hiding her form.

"Close the door, and the blinds," she said softly. "Then open the champagne, please."

After doing as she asked to the door and blinds, I put the tray on the counter. I was concentrating on the champagne bottle when she slipped silently up behind me, and caressed my backside.

"Mmmmmm. Nice and firm," she breathed. "I like a nice, muscular ass on my men. And a hard cock, of course," she continued, reaching around to palm my crotch. "Oh yes, I think that will do. So, what part of a woman's body gets you going, Scott? Are you an ass man? A leg man? Or do boobs do it for you?"

I succeeded in wiggling the cork out of the champagne bottle without spraying the contents across the room, and poured her a glass.

"Um, I guess I'm a bit of everything," I smiled. "I like legs. A nice butt, too. A slender waist, and of course..."

"... Big tits?" she giggled, letting the robe slide off her shoulders and drop to the floor. "Good thing I have all of those, isn't it?" She took her glass from my hand, and stepped back, doing a little pirouette before my eyes. "Do you like?"

What's not to like? I thought. I'm sure her husband must have some conflicting emotions, knowing his incredibly beautiful wife was letting other men use her body, but I wasn't him, was I? No, I was just one of the lucky guys she wanted to fuck, so I wasn't going to complain.

I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth, but I could appreciate her. She really did have it all. Tall, pretty, long beautiful hair... a fit, firm body... great legs, and a very shapely ass.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot... Great tits, too. High and proud on her chest, with just the right amount of hang for their size. They swayed slightly with her movements, and jiggled enticingly as she walked around the room, sipping her champagne.

"I see you only brought one glass," she smiled, raising the flute. "Don't you want some? It's really quite good."

It occurred to me that she could have been referring to the champagne, or herself. I was in a room, with a beautiful, naked woman, who had already made it abundantly clear that she expected me to have sex with her.

What the fuck was I waiting for?

Stepping over to her, I stopped in front, while she sipped, grinning at me.

"Is there anything in particular you'd like me to do," I asked, "or anything you don't want?"

"Hmmmm, now those are interesting questions," she giggled. "Let's examine the second part. What do you think I might not like?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "How about kissing? Some people find kissing very personal. May I kiss you?"

"Oh, I thought you were going to say anal," she purred, putting her glass down. "Don't care for anal, but yes, you can kiss me. I'd like that, very much."

As if to prove her point, she took the initiative, and pressed her soft, pouty lips to mine, wrapping her arms around my neck to keep me close. I felt the soft globes of her breasts against my chest.

"Mmmmmm, that was nice," she sighed. "Now, as far as everything else goes, I suppose the only thing on the list 'don't' list is cumming inside me. Oh... Or in my hair. Just had it done today. Otherwise, I'm giving you carte blanche. Fuck me anyway you like, and cum wherever."

"May I lick your pussy?" I asked.

"I'd be very disappointed if you didn't," she moaned, pulling me along with her toward the daybed. "Are you good at it? Don't be modest."

"Well, I've been told I am, but that's up to you," I answered, as she plucked up the champagne bottle along the way. She sat on the bed, legs spread.

"Since you only brought one glass, well just have to give you something else to drink off of," she said sensually. Tipping the bottle carefully, she let a small stream trickle down over her left breast. The cold liquid made her nipple pucker and stand taller.

I took the hint, and immediately suckled her nipple, tasting the champagne. She did the same with her right breast, and I cleaned up.

"How about something that holds a little more volume," she winked, leaning back. She pulled her legs up, and aimed the bottle at her gaping, already dripping pussy. With two fingers, she spread the inner lips, and poured.

"Ooooo! The bubbles tickle!" she laughed. "Drink up!"

I was on my knees in a second, licking the overflowing champagne from her vagina, and chasing it down across her tight little butt hole. Sylvie giggled, and poured me another drink, forcing me to slurp up the bubbly liquid. She refilled her pussy often, drinking from the bottle herself between fills.

All of this gave me plenty of time to inspect her sexy crevice closely.

I wasn't at all surprised that she was shaved bald. It just seemed appropriate, somehow, and went with her personality. Her skin was so smooth, all around the labia. The outer lips flared up, supporting the wings of her inner labia, which were spread wide. I suppose giving birth twice must have stretched those lips somewhat, but the overall appearance was very attractive. She had a very pretty pussy.

And a very tasty one. The champagne aside, I could still taste her natural juices, and she was yummy, getting juicier by the minute. She had abandoned the bottle, which sat propped up in the corner of the daybed, so now I was getting to savour her mixture of sweet and salty undiluted. I preferred her vintage to that of the champagne, hands down.

Sylvie wrapped her legs around my head, her heels spurring me on as I ate her gently. She had one hand in my hair, while the other played with her nipples. She was clearly enjoying the sensations my tongue was providing. She told me that, too.

"Mmmmmm, yes, Scott, that's lovely," she moaned. "You really are good at this. I'm going to have to add you to my monthly routine, here."

Monthly? Well, I think I could get used to that, and I hadn't even experienced all she had to offer, yet.

The same could be said for her, of course. I was just getting warmed up, and I began to focus on her clit.

She giggled, as though my tongue fluttering across her sensitive bud was tickling, but the sounds that followed were most definitely those of pleasure, not humour. I had two fingers sliding in and out of her pussy, while I alternated licking and sucking her clit, causing her to moan, and her chest to heave sharply with excited breathing.

When she came, her screams left nothing to the imagination. Everyone within earshot would now know exactly what we were doing.

"Fuck, yes, Scott! Suck my clit! YES! OH FUCK, YES! LICK MY PUSSY DEEP! OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH YESSSSSS!"

I pictured heads turning out by the pool, and knowing smiles being exchanged between the guests. Maybe Linda heard it too, and her nipples tightened into hard points under her shirt. Sylvie screamed her testimonial, advertising to my future guests, and splashing her juices over my face.

"Oh, good lord," she smiled, rising onto her elbows. "Wow! That was good. How old are you?"

"Twenty-two," I answered, licking my lips.

"Twenty-two? What, dog-years?" she laughed. "How'd you get so good so fast?"

"Thank you, Ma'am," I smiled. "I just enjoy it. I like learning."

"Mmmmm hmmm," she giggled, her eyes on my bulge. "Speaking of learning... I'd like to learn more about a certain part of you. Stand up, Scott, and drop those shorts. Lemme see your dick."

Gladly. Things were quite cramped in there right now, and I would love to stretch out, so to speak. Within seconds, I was stepping out of my shorts and underwear. The shirt followed, so I was as naked as she was.

"Very nice, Scott," she complimented, grasping my stiffness in one hand. The head was gooey with pre-cum, and she squeezed out another dollop, scraping it up with a fingertip. She tasted it. "Mmmmm, yes. Tasty, and just the right size. I'm a bit of a Goldilocks when it comes to cocks. Too small is a waste of time, and too big, while it can be fun, is a bit uncomfortable, especially if a guy is rough. Yours is juuuuuust right! I think I'm going to enjoy having my little kitty stuffed with your meat. Want me to suck it?"

"Please, Ma'am?" I asked, hoping she wasn't just teasing. I'd been hard for quite a while, and wanted some attention. "Only if you wish to do so, of course."

"Only if I wish?" she snickered. "Why, Scott... I looooooove sucking cock. It's how I met my husband. I gave him a great blowjob, in the back of his limo, and he just couldn't let me go. I owe a lifetime of financial comfort to my ability to make men cum in my mouth. Do you want to cum in my mouth, Scott? I'm sure you could use some relief. Let me help you with that."

She didn't wait for an answer. I'm sure no one had ever turned her down, so the question was largely rhetorical.

Standing before her, I gently stroked her shiny, blonde hair, while her head bobbed slowly on my cock. She didn't have Elena's deep throat technique, but her own combination of suction, tongue, and hand action was spectacularly effective. She was moaning happily throughout, so I could conclude that she was enjoying it nearly as much as I was, and I was loving it. She sensed I was getting close, and put her hands on my ass, patting to urge me on.

I fucked her mouth, feeling her tongue swirl around as I did. My thrusts became more urgent, squeezing saliva out of her mouth, to ooze down her chin. Her hands grabbed my ass cheeks harder, pulling me deeper between her sucking lips, while I held her head still.

"Oh, fuck," I grunted. "Fuck! Suck my cock! Yes! Almost there..."

I suppose the best way to keep my cum out of her hair was to swallow it, directly, and that's what she did as I erupted, groaning loudly. My hips kept pumping as I filled her mouth with hot semen, and she gulped it down amid happy noises, sucking deeply to get it all. My legs began to feel a little weak, and I had to sit, but she merely shifted along with me, slurping up every drop.

"Mmmmmm mmmmm, good," she smiled, when she released me. "And, I see you're still hard. That's wonderful! There are rubbers over in the drawer. Go put one on, and get back to fucking me."

She was right. I was still hard, and I'd only been bathing in this spa of liquid Viagra for a few days. Already, I had noticed a difference. As for her demanding tone, well, I wasn't expecting an emotional attachment. This was the ultimate in 'no strings' sex, so I could just enjoy the benefits.

When I returned, my penis sheathed in latex, Sylvie was leaning back, her legs high and wide spread, with two fingers holding her slippery lips apart.

"Fuck me, long and deep, Scott," she ordered. "Don't hold back."

Slipping into the juicy cleft of her pussy, I smiled.

"Yes, Ma'am."