Laura's Fun

Laura decided to have a little of a relaxation day along with some fun, so she decided it was time to hit the sauna, she made her way down to the relaxation area and found the sauna, she opened the door and the heat hit Laura like a wall the moment she pushed through the wooden door of the sauna. Cedar and eucalyptus hung thick in the air, curling around the low benches and the glowing stones in the corner. Sweat beaded along her collarbone before she'd taken three steps inside.

Her hair was pinned up off her neck, and her skin already gleamed under the warm amber light of the lanterns.She'd expected the sauna to be empty. It wasn't. A couple sat on the upper bench, side by side, both of them naked. The woman was perhaps forty, with auburn hair twisted into a loose knot and a body that had clearly been earned—strong shoulders, full breasts, a soft belly that curved above her hips. The man beside her was older, silver at the temples, with a broad chest and thick thighs spread comfortably apart on the cedar planks.And the woman's hand was wrapped around his cock.

Not casually. Not by accident. Her fingers were curled around his shaft in a loose, lazy fist, stroking him slowly from base to tip while she leaned her head against his shoulder. His cock was thick and half-hard, darkening as she worked it, and neither of them looked particularly surprised to see Laura standing in the doorway.

"Morning" the woman said, as though she were greeting a neighbor over a garden fence.

Laura's mouth went dry. "Sorry—I didn't realize anyone was in here."

"Don't apologize." The woman tilted her head, and her eyes traveled down Laura's body with open, unhurried interest. "There's plenty of room. Please sit."

Laura hesitated for exactly one second. Then she stepped up onto the lower bench and settled onto the cedar, the heat pressing in on her from all sides. The woman's hand never stopped moving on her husband's cock.

"I'm Diane," she said. "This is my husband, Peter."

Peter nodded at Laura, a slow, easy smile crossing his face. "Morning"

"Laura."

"First time at the resort?" Diane asked.

"First time at this resort." Laura wiped sweat from her brow, trying to keep her eyes off the steady rhythm of Diane's hand.

Diane laughed, a low, warm sound. "Peter and I have been coming here for years. It's the one place we can be exactly what we are without anyone clutching their pearls about it." She gave his cock a deliberate squeeze, and Peter's breath hitched. "We like to indulge in life’s little pleasures"

Laura's pulse had migrated somewhere low in her belly. "Is that so?"

"It is." Diane's gaze held hers, steady and unblinking. "You're welcome to stay and watch. Or you're welcome to do more than watch."

Peter's cock had grown fully hard now, thick and upright in his wife's fist, the head glistening. He hadn't said a word, but his eyes moved between the two women like he was watching a match play out.

Laura swallowed. "What kind of more?"

Diane smiled, slow and knowing. "Would you like to play with my husband, Laura?"

The question hung in the steam. "Yes," she said. "I would."

Diane released Peter's cock and slid off the bench, settling onto the lower tier across from Laura. She stretched out her legs, leaned back against the wall, and let her knees fall open. Her pussy was bare and flushed, already wet, and she slipped two fingers between her folds without any pretense at all.

"Well" she said. "He's all yours."

Laura rose and crossed the small space. Peter watched her come, his cock twitching against his stomach. Up close he smelled of cedar and clean sweat, and his chest was broad and warm when she braced one hand against it. She wrapped her fingers around him. He was hot and heavy, skin like silk over iron, and she stroked him once, twice, learning the shape of him. Peter let out a low sound, his head tipping back against the wall.

"Slower," Diane said from behind her. "He likes it slow at first."

Laura obeyed, dragging her fist from base to tip with deliberate slowness, squeezing just under the head the way she liked to be touched herself. Peter's hips lifted off the bench, chasing her hand.

"Good," Diane murmured. Her fingers moved in lazy circles over her clit, and Laura could hear the wet sound of it, soft and rhythmic beneath the hiss of the steam.

Laura leaned down and took him into her mouth. Peter groaned, a deep, rumbling sound that seemed to come from his chest. She worked him with her lips and tongue, her hand still stroking the base, tasting the salt of his skin. Above her, he reached down and gathered her hair in one big hand, not pushing, just holding.

"God, Diane," he breathed. "She's good."

"She is," Diane agreed. Her fingers had quickened, two of them sliding inside herself now while her thumb worked her clit. "Look at her. She's enjoying herself."

Laura was. She knelt on the cedar bench naked, sweat running in rivulets down her back and between her breasts, her mouth full of another woman's husband while that woman watched her with dark, hungry eyes. He was close—she could feel it in the way his thighs tensed, the way his hand tightened in her hair. She hollowed her cheeks and worked him fast, her own arousal slick and aching between her legs.

Behind her, Diane's breathing broke into soft, stuttering moans. "That's it—that's it—don't stop—"

Peter came with a hoarse cry, his release flooding Laura's mouth. Thick jets of spunk shot into Laura’s mouth and she swallowed it down, kept swallowing until he was spent and shuddering, and only then did she pull off and sit back on her heels. Diane had her head thrown back, three fingers buried inside herself, her whole body arching as she came with a sharp, satisfied cry. When she opened her eyes, they were bright and glassy, and she was smiling.

“Well, you certainly know how to suck a cock”, Diane said in between catching her breath.

“I’ve had plenty of practice”, Laura replied as she sat back, enjoying the sauna, her belly full of cum, Peter’s cock now limp.

They chatted and enjoyed each other's company, all the while enjoying the hot sauna, after a while they both thanked Laura and left, leaving her alone, she began to think what she would like to do next, a massage sounded good about now. Laura slipped out of the sauna into the cool corridor, her skin still flushed and damp, fully naked. Her mouth still tasted of Peter, and her thighs were slick with her own wanting. The air of the resort's spa wing was cool against her overheated body, and she padded barefoot down the stone hallway, following the brass placard that read *Massage Suite — Appointment Only*.

She hadn't booked anything. She didn't particularly care.

The door opened onto a dim, warm room that smelled of sandalwood and warmed oil. A single massage table dominated the center, draped in white linen, and along the far wall a row of candles flickered low. Soft music played from somewhere unseen, something with strings and a slow, rolling drum.

A man turned from the counter where he'd been warming a bottle of oil between his palms.

He was tall. Broad through the shoulders, with forearms corded and dusted with dark hair, and a jaw that looked like it had been carved rather than grown. His shirt was open at the collar, sleeves rolled to the elbow, and when he smiled, it reached his eyes.

"Morning," he said. "I'm Mateo. You're not on my list."

"No," Laura said. "I was hoping you'd be able to squeeze me in"

Mateo's gaze moved over her—the damp hair, the flushed chest, her naked body—and his smile deepened. "I think I can manage that. Lie down. Face down first."

She climbed onto the table and stretched out on her stomach, her cheek resting on her folded arms, her legs long and bare against the linen. Mateo's hands landed on her shoulders, oiled and warm, and Laura let out a long, involuntary sigh. He worked her like he'd been doing it for twenty years. Thumbs pressed into the knots at the base of her skull, then fanned out along her neck, down the slope of her shoulders, into the wings of her back. He found places she hadn't known were tight and loosened them with slow, deliberate pressure, and by the time he reached her lower back, her breath became slow and deep. His hands slid lower. Over the swell of her hips, down the outside of her thighs, then back up—and this time when they came up, they came over her ass.

He didn't rush it. He worked the muscles there the way he'd worked her shoulders, thumbs digging into the meat of her glutes, palms spreading her cheeks just enough to feel the heat between them. Laura's hips shifted against the table, a small, helpless roll.

Mateo's hands stayed. Circled. Pressed. Then he moved on, down the backs of her thighs, the hollows behind her knees, her calves, her heels. He worked each foot with slow, thorough attention, and by the time he said "turn over," Laura had almost forgotten what she'd come in for.

Almost.

She rolled onto her back, and the linen was cool against her flushed skin. Mateo's eyes moved down her body, breasts, stomach, her shaved pussy, and he didn't pretend not to look. He poured more oil into his palm and started at her collarbones.

His hands swept down over her chest, and when they reached her breasts, he didn't skip them. He cupped them, oiled and warm, and massaged them with the same thorough care he'd given her back—palms circling, thumbs sweeping over her nipples until they peaked hard and aching under his touch.

Laura's lips parted. A soft sound escaped her.

"You're very beautiful," Mateo said quietly. "Every part of you."

His hands slid down her ribs, over her stomach, along the crease of her hips. And then, without ceremony, one oiled hand came down between her legs. He didn't push inside. He just pressed his palm flat against her, warm and broad, and let her grind up against it. Laura gasped, her head tipping back, her heels digging into the table.

Laura saw he had a fairly large bulge in his trousers and then said, “Would you like me to take care of that for you”, her eyes staring at his crotch

“That would be lovely”, Mateo smiled and withdrew his hand. He stepped back, and Laura heard the rustle of fabric, the soft thump of clothes hitting the floor.

When he came back to the table, he was naked.

He was built the way she'd imagined—broad chest, flat stomach, a trail of dark hair leading down to a cock that stood thick and heavy against his thigh. Laura turned over and stood on the floor but bent over the table, Mateo got behind her and reached down, guided himself to her entrance, and pushed inside her in one slow, unbroken stroke. Laura cried out. He filled her completely, stretched her open, and he didn't move for a long moment, just held himself deep inside her, breathing hard against her neck, letting her feel every inch.

Then he began to move. Slow at first, deep and rolling, his hands gripping her hips.

"Harder," she breathed.

He gave her harder. The table creaked beneath them, and the candles guttered with the rhythm of their movement. Mateo fucked her with the same thoroughness he'd massaged her—no wasted motion, every stroke deliberate, every angle chosen to make her gas, a long, keening moan tearing out of her throat. Mateo wasn't far from coming. He drove into her three more times, hard and deep, and then buried himself to the hilt and came with a low, guttural groan, his whole body shuddering over hers. For a long moment neither of them moved. The music played on. The candles flickered. Then Mateo pulled out slowly, and Laura felt the warm trickle of him following, sliding down between her thighs onto the linen.

“That was lovely, why don’t you get back on the table and I’ll give you a deep tissue massage”, Mateo said and he was pulling shorts back on, leaving his chest uncovered.

Laura climbed back on the table, cum seeping from her pussy, Mateo spent the next hour massaging every muscle in her body, by the time he was finished Laura felt amazing and relaxed, pussy and stomach full of cum. As the massage was over Laura got up and thanked Mateo for a wonderful massage and the extra and left.

Laura walked towards the bar and pool area, when she entered the area is was a wash of skin and moaning, people enjoying the sub and others having fun, she found him at the bar, nursing a rum and coke with his feet propped on the railing. He was younger than the men she'd been with so far—maybe thirty-five—with sun-bleached hair, a surfer's build, and an easy grin that crinkled the corners of his eyes. His name was Cole, he was from San Diego, and he'd been watching her since she walked up.

"Can I get you a drink?" he asked.

"I've got one." Laura slid onto the stool beside him. "But you can get me the next one."

They talked for an hour. He was a boat mechanic, here for a week on his own, and he had a way of listening that made Laura feel like the only woman on the island. When he finally said "Fancy somewhere more private, my cabana's just down the beach," she didn't pretend not to understand. His cabana was smaller than the one she'd shared with Stuart, Anthony, and Charles, but it had the same open walls and the same sound of waves rolling in. He poured them both a finger of whiskey, and then he kissed her.

Cole kissed slow, unhurried, with his hands in her hair and his body pressed close. Laura let him take his time. She'd learned that the best ones always did. He was hard before she even touched him, and when she wrapped her hand around his cock he made a low sound against her throat.

"Bed," he said.

It was a good bed. Wide, low, with a mosquito net tied back at the corners and clean white sheets. Cole laid her down in the middle of it and climbed over her, and for a while he just used his mouth—on her neck, her collarbones, her breasts, her stomach, the inside of her thighs. Laura pushed him onto his back and straddled him and sank down slowly, taking him inch by inch, watching his jaw go tight as she seated herself fully. Her pussy still wet and moist from the earlier fucking, then she rode him, slow at first, then faster, her hands braced on his chest, his hands gripping her hips and occasionally playing with her ample tits. The net swayed with the rhythm of it.

"Turn over," he said finally, and Laura climbed off and rolled onto her hands and knees.

Cole entered her from behind, and this time he didn't go slow. He fucked her hard and deep, one hand fisted in her hair, the other wrapped around her hip. Laura dropped her head and moaned into the sheets. He pulled out, and she felt the head of his cock push into her ass slowly, and Laura's breath caught at the stretch. Cole worked himself in with patient, rolling pressure, and once he was fully seated he paused, letting her adjust. He fucked her ass with the same steady rhythm he'd used on her pussy, and Laura reached down between her legs to rub her clit while he did it. The combination built fast, and when she came she clenched hard around him, and Cole groaned and drove deep and came inside her, hot thick pulsing jets of spunk deep into her ass.

His body twitching with every squirt, Laura moaning as she felt him unload up her eager ass, after all Laura loved anal, more the merrier. He stayed buried in her until he softened, then pulled out slowly. Laura collapsed onto her stomach, satisfied. They lay tangled together for a while, sharing the whiskey, talking about nothing. Cole traced lazy patterns on her back. Laura dozed.

"Round two?" he murmured.

Laura rolled over and smiled at him. "Round two."

This time she poured oil from the bottle on the nightstand into her palm, slicked her hands, rubbed her tits, oiling them up.

“Come of, fuck my tits and cum in my face”, she said as he held her tits in each hand.

Cole straddled her chest and he placed his cock in between her tits and Laura squeezed her tits together around him and he began to move, slow at first, then faster, watching his face as he watched his cock slide between her oiled breasts. She licked the head every time it pushed through, and Cole's hands fisted in the sheets.

"Fuck, Laura."

He fucked her tits for a while, until his breathing went ragged and his hips started to thrust up into the channel of her tits. Then she looked up at him, opened her mouth. It only took a few more seconds before Cole groaned and came. It hit her mouth first, then her cheek, then her chin. Thick squirts of spunk shot out of Cole’s cock and he kept ramming his cock into her tits through it, Laura got what she could on her tongue and let the rest paint her face.

When he was spent, he stayed between her tits, her mouth and chin glistening. Cole looked down at her like she was something holy.

"Jesus Christ, that was good" he said.

Laura licked her lips and grinned. "It certainly was.".

Laura stayed for a little while longer , just enough to finish her drink as it was getting near Carrie's free use ceremony, she cleaned her face up, thanked Cole for a good time and headed out, she'd had a good day, sucked and swallowed a cock, cum up her ass and pussy, all in all, a good day.