Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 103530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
The name was shockingly familiar. Did Matthew frequent the same section of Literotica.com that I did?
I hoped the inside was as good as the story.
Before we even reached the doors, two staff members appeared to greet us. One was a stereotypically Nordic-looking guy with huge shoulders and bulging biceps that threatened to burst the sleeves of his pristine white polo. The other was a petite woman with ivory skin and mousey brown hair pulled back in a no-nonsense French braid and a similar uniform to her giant Viking counterpart.
"Welcome, Charlotte," they said in unison, and I decided that I was out of there at the first sign of a flower crown.
I was not about to get Midsommered at a sex resort.
Luckily, they dropped the creepy vibe instantly. The guy introduced himself as Canson, which had to be a fake name, but the woman looked like the Beth she claimed to be. I supposed if I worked at a private island sex retreat, I probably wouldn't give my real name to guests, either.
"I'll leave you in their good hands," Miranda said, adding, "Mr. Ashe would like you to know that he'll be viewing parts of the process."
That was a big clue that my "special check-in procedure" was going to be filthy as hell.
Inside the disappointingly futuristic-fucking-machine-free spa—not everything could be like internet erotica, I guessed—Beth led me to a changing room outfitted with a luxurious multi-head shower and all the toiletries and tools one might require to make themselves presentable to the world again after their facials and massages. Totally standard; I'd spent enough of my parents' money on pampering over the years to have seen similar set-ups. I stripped down and took advantage of a quick shower, then put on the fluffy, pre-warmed robe Beth provided.
For the most part, everything was normal. Mimosas and a pedicure, an offer of waxing that I declined having taken care of my business at home, and then it was off to my massage, where I met up with Canson once more.
"Enjoying your day so far?" he asked cheerfully as we entered another fairly standard spa room. The lights were low, essential oil scenting the air from a warmer, and a crisp white sheet draped over the massage table.
Beth entered, carrying a foam wedge under her arm. "All right, Charlotte. Why don't you get rid of that robe and hop up on the table?"
Whenever I'd had massages in the past, the therapist had always left the room so I could disrobe and cover myself with a provided top sheet. Canson and Beth waited expectantly.
"If you're feeling self-conscious, I can take this off," Beth said, gesturing to her own clothes.
"So can I," Canson offered.
My eyes were probably wide enough they could both see my brain. "No, you're fine," I said breezily, as if strangers offered to get nude for my comfort all the time. I shrugged out of the robe, too aware of the way my nipples tightened at the first touch of the air on my skin.
Beth took the robe and Canson patted the table. "On your stomach please," he instructed.
I laid down and wriggled into a comfortable position, settling my face into the headrest. Beth patted my thigh. "Could you lift your hips, please?"
Okay...
She slid the wedge beneath me, raising and tilting my pelvis at an angle that fully exposed my pussy to both of them.
I assumed this would be the part that Matt watched from wherever he was.
"Comfortable?" Canson asked, his huge hand resting on the curve of my calf.
I somehow squeaked out a "Yes," and forced myself to slow my suddenly erratic breathing.
"Relax," Beth reassured me, and I heard her slicking her hands with oil. "We're here to relieve all of your tension."
Heat flooded straight to my vulva. I took a long, deep breath and prepared for them to touch me.
They did, but not in the way I expected. Beth started at my shoulders and neck, and she put in the work easing the knots caused by a long day of travel. Canson started at my feet, doing a more thorough—almost painful—foot rub than I'd received during the pedicure. They were good at their jobs, so good that they lulled me nearly to sleep as they tended every muscle between my head and feet.
While I drifted off into half-slumbering bliss, some part of my brain noted that Canson's hands were getting awfully close to my upraised vulva. So close, his liberally oiled fingertips accidentally brushed my folds. And when Beth reached my ass, I couldn't help but notice how often her strokes parted my cheeks. A drizzle of something warm and wet between them shocked me back to full awareness.
Wordlessly, Canson and Beth stood on either side of me. His thick, powerful fingers moved in surprisingly delicate strokes over my labia, trapping each fold between his fingertips and massaging them, too, working the hot oil into every crevice. The only area he avoided was my clit, which pulsed with longing every time he came near it.