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A hot tub night

A woman gets an invite to a couple's private show



My name is Paula and I travel a lot for my job. I travel a lot for my personal life, as well. But those are trips that you can just say no to when the mode strikes. It's not that I mind spending time in a vehicle. It's just that those trips don't always go where I want to be at any given time. Of course, it doesn't help that I'm 38 years old and divorced – which could be an indicator that I can't decide what I want – or where I want to be at any given time. But that is beside the point.


All day I had my mind set on a motel in Lexington, KY that has a wonderful hot tub. They keep it clean, hot and well treated. And, best news, children under 18 are not allowed. It's considered a big person's toy and I was in need of just that.


I like a swimming pool, don't get me wrong. There's something about laying on the side of the pool and doing a slow scissor kick for exercise. I enjoy swimming and do so when possible. Although I have to admit that swimming in a pool is nothing compared to swimming in the open ocean days beyond the sight of land. That's a bad habit, along with not wearing many if any clothes, I picked up in a three-year relationship with a lover who ferried yachts throughout the world. I don't think I was fully dressed for any consecutive 24-hour period in those three years.


But tonight I wanted a hot tub and when I checked in, I threw my clothes in the room, let that business suit puddle at my feet in a pile of discarded cloth and grabbed a swimsuit. Swimsuits being what they are, there are public wear and private wear and a lot of suits that should never see the light of day. The one I had packed was a trim one piece suit in a dark red that fits me well. I'm hard to fit in that type of clothing. When you wear an A cup bra that could almost be an AA, stand 5-9 and weigh 115 pounds, swim wear designers don't spend a lot of time on you.


This suit has always been my public wear suit for the last couple of years. Even without a razor or waxing, it doesn't reveal much – provided I spend some thought on keeping my knees together. Admittedly, it would not do to wear to a gym and be seen swinging my hips across any type of exercise machine. Right now, I'm afraid people would think I had never felt the razor's sting or the firm yank of a wax job. Which, by the way, is going to hurt like hell the next time around and Spring is just around the corner here in Kentucky.


I entered the dimly lighted tub area and noticed what I thought was a baseball cap floating along one edge. The cap turned out to be connected to a brunette's head which became obvious when she looked up and then swept her ponytail back around over her shoulder.


I slipped out of my cover and with a nod to the other woman, eased down into the tub. It's large, easily enough for 8-10 adults who didn't want to be close enough to touch. In all of five minutes, I was oblivious to the world. So much so that I didn't notice the woman was moving till she was on the steps after the jets stopped.


The brunette was my height, but heavier, a little more tummy than I like on me, but then I'm flat chested and she definitely was not. Nope, a nice pair of big B boobs swaying gently under her loose swim suit top. Her black top was a good fit for her body type, but it was the bikini bottoms, soaked and dripping in streams down her legs that drew my attention. She had legs that said the woman had used them a lot at one point in her life. Her ass was high and tight and those leg muscles looked good, damned good, as she went up the steps.


She toweled off, then tugged on a man's shirt, buttoned that up and then dragged a pair of jeans up her clammy legs. The bikini bottom instantly soaked through the fabric as she stuck some clogs on her feet and then shouldered her clothing bag and left without so much as a word. However, she did divert to the tub switch and give me another merciful 15 minutes with the flip of her wrist.


I had just escaped into my privacy behind my closed eyes when the door squeaked and I heard a pair of street shoes tap across the tile flooring in the dry portion of the room. Cracking one eye, I watched as a tall, thin man dropped his T-shirt and then shucked out of his jeans (was this jeans night at the sauna?) before stepping down onto the tub's steps. He was rail thin, the kind of thin that, well makes me think he should be looking for a cook.


He was so thin that I would have closed my eyes right then without another thought if I had not noticed his cock.


Even curled limply inside his trunks it was a handful.


The man said nothing as he took a seat opposite me and then proceeded to disappear in his own mind. When the jets quit a few minutes later, he looked at me, smiled and noted that it seemed to be his turn. I guess it was obvious, I was not moving. And I had no intentions of doing so for two reasons. One, I can be lazy as hell. Although maybe the Devil gets a lot out of his residents, I don't know. Check back with me on that one. But secondly, I wasn't going to stand up and give him a really good muff show because I could feel that my suit had ridden right up into my crotch. I didn't move until he was out of the tub and then I tried, in vain, to adjust that damned swimsuit.


The jets started again and the man eased back into the water. And that's when I got a really big shock. His cock was rock hard. Jutting straight out in front of him at an little angle and drooping down slightly, but absolutely rock hard.


He looked right at me and just smiled, apologized for his appearance and noted that he could not help himself. I smiled, that little female grin that says, Oh, OK, tell me your story (you girls know what I mean). Returning to his original seat, the stranger looked at me and laughed a wicked little laugh. Then explained how he had been sitting there and trying to decide what kind of a body I had.


My laugh was loud and echoed around the room. I noted that he had about 10-15 minutes before he would know if he stuck around till the jets quit.


Nothing else was said until the jets did sputter their last. Having spent nearly 40 minutes in the tub, I knew it was time to get out.


Sitting in the tub, I had kept my chin just barely out of the water. But standing, I felt the water draining off my body and I noticed his eyes taking a long drink of me. My nipples were hard when I stood up, and, as I feared, there was muff hanging out around my crotch.


I started up the steps before stopping mid-way. Looking down, I explained to my tub mate that I was sorry about the muff show, but that it had been a long winter. Of course, I did manage to stand with my feet on different steps, it wasn't like I was trying to keep myself hidden.


The man grinned, stared right at me and then gave me a thumbs up sign.


I exited the tub, grabbed my wrap and was heading for the door when he heaved around and rested his elbows on the side of the tub. He smiled and asked me to turn the jets back on. I did so and noticed a small envelope laying right beside the knob. It was addressed to 'dark haired girl'.


The man smiled as I looked from the envelope to his eyes. “The note's for you. My girlfriend thought you might enjoy a treat, she told me about you when she left,” he said.


I knew he meant the brunette, but for some reason, the two didn't fit. I thumbed the envelope open and inside was a simple piece of paper in a woman's hand. “Room 212, 9 p.m.” was all it said. I laughed, smiled then tossed the paper down on the floor and looked at the man and told him thanks, but no thanks.


He smiled and then said they'd see me later.


I had a shower and managed to go through a half-bottle of conditioner getting my hair back to rights. Long hair is a curse, guys. But it's a great tool and, yes, we love using it on you. I grabbed a pair of khaki pants and a clean blouse and added my belt adornments before leaving to find food.


After dinner found me back in the room and contentedly reading a book. Until I noted it was about five till 9. I gave it some thought, put my shoes on and brushed my teeth before walking up the stairs and around a corner to 212.


I started to knock, but the first brush of my knuckles pushed the door inwards. It wasn't locked.


Inside the dimly lighted room I noted the brunette sitting in a recliner, her legs propped up on the writing table in front of her. The man from the pool was sitting on a foot stool running his tongue up and down the inside of one of her fantastic legs.


The woman looked at me and without missing a single breath asked me if I wanted to watch them have sex. Too numb to speak, I closed and bolted the door, assuming nobody else had received an envelope from the couple. Then found a chair and sat down.


The man spent 15 minutes by the wall clock licking that woman's legs. First around the outside of her knees, then the inside, then slowly, oh God ever so slowly up the inside of one thigh and then the other. For her part, the brunette was taking it without so much as a sound.


The man's hands managed to unbutton her shirt and open it and exposed her perfect breasts. I felt ashamed of my chest, or lack of a chest. That woman had the most perfect tits heaven could make – or money could have bought.


And I was completely shocked when her lover reached out and cruelly twisted one of her rather small nipples in a complete circle. The woman yelped, arched her back and then clamped one hand over her mouth. The man turned and looked at me. “Ever sound she makes costs her more pain. It's a game we play, you should enjoy this,” he said.


He turned back and without further warning smacked that perfect left tit hard. I mean, really hard. Hard enough that it swung over and bounced off the other breast. Then he lowered his head to her snatch and began eating her.


By now, I was soaking wet. I could feel my panties sticking to my pussy lips. My clit felt like it was the size of a softball and I was dying to touch myself.

And I did just that, carefully trailing one finger down into the cleft formed by my khaki pants. I could feel the moisture through two layers of cloth. I watched that woman's face contort as she tried to remain silent as the man ate her.


And he was good. He didn't go straight for her clitoris. No, he was teasing, sweeping his tongue around the outer lips. Sucking those shaved ridges of flesh into his mouth and then, only then, leaning back enough to pull the skin taut. The brunette's hips arched up off the chair, her legs were clenched around his shoulders.


Then she moaned. Not a little moan, but a loud, drawn-out moan that a woman issues from deep in her belly. This time the man reached up and pinched her breast. I could see the skin change color as soon as he released the grip. The woman dropped back down into the seat as the man took her legs, those perfect looking legs, in his hands and spread them wide apart.


I watched in absolute horror as his tongue drew closer and closer to her gaping pussy. Then, ever so gently, he touched her with just the tip, holding it motionless for a few seconds. Then he pushed his face forward and drove his tongue up inside the woman's cunt.


She screamed. There was no holding back. She opened her mouth and screamed.


The man sat up, then reached up slowly and held his hands out in front of himself. The woman took them and guided both sets of fingers to a nipple. He spread his hands wide on her breasts, then started tightening the grip and, at the same time, twisting her mounds until she arched her back in pain.


I stood up at this point, not sure if I should move to her aid, or just stand there. The man turned to me and told me to take my pants down. “You want to get off, go ahead, enjoy the show. Watch as I fuck my wife,” he said.


Like a robot I watched as he held his grip on her tits while I took my belt loose and then pushed my pants to my knees and then, with a final shove, down around my ankles.


The pale pink pair of panties I was wearing were soaked through in the crotch area. I could smell myself, as if there wasn't enough of a sex smell in the room already. I sat down and began playing with myself through my wet panties.


The man kept his grip on the woman's tits, pulling her up out of the chair and then turning her around and pushing her back down on the bed right in front of me. He released his grasp, leaving those breasts red and bruised. I could hard stand the thought of what that felt like, but it didn't stop me from slipping a finger under the leg band of my underwear and slowly sliding it inside my own dripping opening.


The man dropped his briefs and his cock jutted out in front of him. It was long, maybe 8 or 9 inches, but not overly thick. But then that comes from a woman who just took her first black man a week ago and discovered the telephone lineman had a phone pole for a dick.


The man leaned forward and without any hesitation, drove his cock balls deep into the woman's cunt. She curled her legs up, her toes locked in a tiny little curl of their own, and then she let out a wail. The man's arms went around her and he rolled them over until she was on top, still skewered by that long, thin cock. Then he ordered her to lean forward and, without any hesitation, drove one finger up her anus. The brunette gasped and then began to ride his dick.

By now, I had two fingers in my own cunt and was stroking myself with wild abandon. I kicked my shoes off, then my pants and finally lifted my hips and yanked the wet panties down as well. The woman and man were looking right at me.


“Your breasts, please, God, bear your tits,” the brunette begged me. The finger in her ass was out now and she was riding in long, slow strokes. “I want to see them, that's what I was trying to imagine in the tub, please, we want to know how small you are.”


I stood up and pulled the button-up shirt off over my head. A pale matching pink bra revealed. With a flick of my hand, I pushed it up around my shoulders and bared my tiny breasts as I shoved the other hand back to my crotch. I sat down in the chair and propped my feet on the bed. My breasts just sit there on my chest like that. There's no movement as there's simply nothing there but my nipples.


“Fuck, you are tiny,” said the woman's lover as he screwed up to meet her. But by that time, it didn't matter to me. I was about to come, and I did with a loud moan and a yank of my knees up into my chest, revealing my hairy cunt fully.


I could hear his dick sloshing in and out, the juices were running down the woman's thighs on onto the man's legs. It was not another minute before he pulled her down and rolled back over on top of her. I could see his nuts were drawn up tight and his hips were driving hard now. I sat there with pussy juice dripping on the carpet as he shot a load inside her.


He must have held himself just inside the brunette because the moment he pulled out, a great gush of semen spewed out from her gaping cunt.


I found my panties, stuff them into the pocket of my khaki pants and then pulled my clothing back on.


As I got my shirt around my chest the woman looked at me and smiled. “I really just wanted to see your breasts. I knew you would be tiny, honey, but Lord, I didn't think you would be that tiny. And when I told Jeremy, he volunteered to come down and bring the note. Thanks for coming up tonight,” she said.


I left and went back to my own room. No amount of rinsing got the sex smell out of my pants. I left them and the pink panties in the garbage. Some attendant will figure I had one hell of a night.


Actually, I did.

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