Yeah Let's Lounge

Sam, feeling good and sweaty and horny, decided to take a few minutes and relax. He walked over and up a couple of steps, then lay on the smooth wood, his cock sticking straight up in the air.

It was, whether he realized it or not, the white flag of surrender his captors had been waiting for.

Sam breathed out an audible sigh of relief as he cupped his full balls and teasing himself before what would he assumed would be a quick little jerk session. Just as he started to fondle his thick, meaty member, he heard the door open. Startled, he pushed back from the ledge to hide, but his cock was too big to keep a secret.

Clip, clop, he heard the sound of flip-flops slapping wood and flesh, until she came into view. She was tall and tan, wearing nothing but towel. Older, maybe mid-40s; dirty blonde with bleached highlights.

"Oh hello," she greeted him warmly with a thick Australian accent. "Somebody's having a good time, here."

"I, uhh, ahhhh," Sam stammered. Her question disarmed him. He assumed she would have rushed him like the girl he met when he first woke up.

"It's okay, love," the Aussie Milf said. "I was just coming up here to sweat it out a bit. Since you're already in the buff, I assume you won't mind if I take my towel off?" Sam shook his head no.

She dropped the towel, revealing her whole body, from her large, perfectly round breasts down to her moist pussy. Like him, her body was already slick with a light layer of sweat, which rolled down every curve and crevice seductively. The sight made his cock twitch uncontrollably. He thought he might cum right then and there.

The Aussie Milf caught his reaction and gave him a quick wink as she lay her towel down on the step near the edge of the step, maybe 5-6 feet from Sam. She lowered herself down on her side, facing him instead of out toward the middle. Though she was on her side, gravity could not pin down her tits, which continued to jut straight forward. And now that her whole body was at eye-level, he got an even better view of the condensation forming and rolling down her chest.

"I'm Becca," she said. "Pleased to meet ya."

"Sam," he said, regaining a little bit of his nerve...

Sam was a bit confused: He knew he was in the study and assumed that she, like the other women he'd met so far, were all there to test him. So what was with the charade? Why bother with world's sweatiest meet-cute routine. He wanted to ask her, but he also worried that things might go bad if he broke the façade. He wasn't even sure what "bad" meant at this point, but he was sure he didn't want to know.