Beaver Canyon part 6

Beaver Canyon part 6


It's a difficult feeling to describe. Soft, yet resilient and firm. Warm, smooth, delightful, and extremely 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 cheap, 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 lying-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 had 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 women.

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 still naked and toweling her wet hair. I found myself hoping I would 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 are not paying rent at school while your here?

Hmmmm. I had not 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 cannot say I would mind having you close by. Sharing you with my guests might be difficult, although I am sure you will 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 are almost as good as she was.

Almost? I pouted.

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

I guess I can accept being almost as good as the best you have had, I laughed.

Don't rest on your laurels, she smiled, buttoning her blouse. There is 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 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 had never had this much of an effect on women before, I began to wonder if the local rumors about this place might be more than just rumors.

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, a 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 Gold digger 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 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 has giving me one incredibly 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 would 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 would like that. A nice hard cock, sliding between my tits. I want you to fuck me, Scott, any way you would 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 guy. 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.

To be continued