Massage at the Resort

Mrs. Wetford has arrived at the luxurious resort's hotel. She walks in front of the employee carrying her luggage.

She is a dyed blonde, curvy woman in her fifties. She's had a couple of operations around her face. She used her husband's money for that. He is very rich.

Their marriage is at an impasse. They care about each other, but their sexual life has gone down with the years.

There's been moments she's tried to revive the passion, with lingerie, teasing, starting sexual encounters.

Sometimes he was the one pushing with romantic dates, gifts, and travels.

It works for a while but dies down eventually. Right now the bedroom is dead. He is working a lot currently.

She arrives at the reception.

"Good morning. Ms. Wetford? Four nights, right?" the cute receptionist with a dark ponytail asks.

"Yes, dear."

"Nice to meet you. I will need an ID."

While registration is taking place, the mature woman keeps sighing and touching her lower back, pouting and proclaiming her discomfort.

"Anything wrong, ma'am?"

"My lower back. It's killing me. Do you, by any chance, have any appointments for a massage? Anything will do."

"One moment," she picks up the phone. "Hi, we have a guest who would like a session. Do you have any vacancies? Alright. Alright, thanks," she hangs up the phone.

"No luck?" she asks, seeing the awkwardness in the girl's face.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. Appointments are usually booked with at least two days in advance."

"I know, I know..." she laments. "I just forgot..."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Wetford. If we have a vacancy I'll send someone to inform you, okay?"

"Alright, thanks..." she picks up her card and marches towards the elevator.

The young man dragging her luggage overtakes her and calls it. She can't help but check his butt. A young ass. Two shells that-

"Miss or Mrs?" he asks, looking back.

"Uhm. Mrs."

She won't tell him she isn't wearing the ring because her fingers have become fatter with age. He's smiling, though, as if he liked that answer better.

"I doubt you'll have any luck, Mrs. Wetford," his exotic accent sounds great.

"What?"

"With the masseuse. They're always full, and there's a list of people that request to be informed if there are any vacancies."

"Oh... That's sad. I heard great things about this spa."

"And that's exactly why we have this problem. But... Never mind," he chuckles, as if he is being silly just by thinking about whatever's passing his mind.

"What?" she asks, following him through the seventh floor's hallway to watch some more of that sweet ass moving.

"Well. I'm no expert, but..."

"But?"

He stops at what happens to be her door.

"I would gladly try to relieve you, if you want."

"Do you have any experience?" Mrs. Wetford raises an eyebrow, trying not to make it obvious that her heart is palpitating fast.

He's a hunk. The surfer type. Tanned, brown eyes. Dark medium-length hair, muscles that stretch the uniform, and a tattoo that stands out from the collar of his shirt.

"Well. I've been told I'm great with my hands... Of course, this would be free of charge. Our policy is 'always happy customers!"

"Uhm..." she tries to play it cool, but she knows it's her only chance to get a massage, and from this man! "Yeah, sure!"

"Great! So... my shift ends after dinner. How about I come by at 10?"

Mrs. Wetford opens her door and looks through the window, as the sun sets.

"That would be great, thanks!"

He nods politely, and receives a nice tip.

* * * * *

She has been shifting on her chair all throughout the dinner. The baked cod with herb crust was delicious, and so was the lemon meringue pie.

She looks at the time and goes back to her room.

There's half an hour left. She takes a minute to talk to her husband, then hangs up, claiming she is sleepy.

Getting into the shower, she takes the razor and grooms herself, although she was already perfectly smooth, apart from the crown of pubes she likes. "You can never be sure," she thinks.

Once she's out, there's a light knock on the door. She walks slowly, still trying to make it seem like she's calm.

Taking a deep breath, she opens the door to find a stunning young man in casual clothes.

"Wow. And I thought I liked men in uniform," she expresses, blushing when she realizes what she's said.

He chuckles and comes in. "It smells good in here," he sniffs the ambient, then gets closer to her.

"Oh. It's... vanilla..." her attempts to seem chill are going down the drain. She clears her throat and asks: "So how do we do it?"

"Do what?" he grins.

Is he flirting? He clearly is flirting, right? The guy that's probably his children's age.

She ignores his tease and walks back to the bed, where she's laid a towel.

"Great. You can now get in a towel if you'd like," he gestures to the bathroom.

Mrs. Wetford locks herself in the bathroom. She fans herself with one hand, then undresses.

Towel around her, she walks out. Looking away, she lies down on the bed towel, head on her hands.

"Would you like some music?" he plays slow, relaxing music on his phone before she can answer. It might be just her, but it sounds... sexy.

She feels movement behind her. The young man has knelt on her side, and he's opening a bottle.

"Rose oil. I love the smell."

He applies it to his hand, then puts it on her back.

"It does smell great," she sighs.

Just the feeling of hands on her back relaxes her a lot. Thinking it's this handsome guy makes something itch down there.

He wasn't lying; he's good. Applying the right pressure in the right place is a skill one's born with, and he has it.

"Mhhhh..." she moans.

He massages down, down to her lumbar, which is the main problem.

"Yeah, right there..." she moans, clueless of why her voice is coming out like that.

His hands knead right over her buttocks. They give her big masses of flesh big pleasure just with the passive movement.

"Good?" he asks.

"Yeah...."

"I'm Kele, by the way."

"Oh, right. Martha."

"Beautiful name. Do you want me to start with your legs?"

"Already?" she pouts, noticing her back feels much better, but not wanting it to end so fast.

"Don't worry, I'll go back up as much as you like, princess."

She drowns a yelp, blushing like a teenager.

His hands massage her thighs. Now it's her genital area that's being most stimulated subsequent to his massage.

It might be the context, being in a hotel room and all, but she's never felt so nervous and relaxed at the same time. Her heart flutters, but her body is so weak.

He passes through her calves, one and then the other. Then he goes down to her feet.

"You have beautiful feet."

"Thanks."

He puts one on his lap, and exerts pressure on those soles.

"So soft too..."

Martha moves her foot a bit, and notices something. Something hard. She moves it away instantly.

Kele says nothing. He continues his work.

Breathing heavily, Martha moves it back. It's definitely his... member.

It's completely hard. How inappropriate it is! Then why doesn't she want to say anything?

After a while, it's Kele who moves his crotch near her sole. He rubs it through her arch. A silence filled with unspoken words.

Panting, he asks: "Do you mind if I sit over you? I think your shoulders look a bit tense."

After a moment and a gulp, Martha answers with a weak: "Sure."

He straddles her, sitting his erection on her back. She can't believe this. What does a hot guy like him see in her?

She looks good for her age, sure. Long, blonde hair. Slant, dark eyes. Thick lips and a tiny nose.

She has a love-hate relationship with her body. It's become very, VERY curvy with age. A guitar form, with a smaller waist and huge curves, she wakes one day and loves it; maybe she'll hate it in the afternoon.

Her breasts are huge, and not as saggy as their size would suggest. Her vagina looks nice, well kept and tiny, with pretty butterfly wings. But it's not like he's going to see them... Right?

Kele is moving his hips at the same time as his hands, passing his stiffness through her crack.

"Mhhh..." it's his turn to moan.

She so wants to pass her hand down to her mounds, but of course, she won't.

"I'm turning around for a last pass down there, okay?" he whispers near her ear.

She nods, and he turns back, his penis pressing on the high part of her bum.

He starts with her feet, then slowly, taking his time, moves up.

The tension is cutting, she feels him getting closer... and closer...

Once he finishes with her thighs, he moves up her butt. Bold, he massages those humongous masses. Together, separated, both hands on each, up and down.

She moans lightly from time to time, and his penis twitches every single time she does.

"K-Kele," she finally says something.

"Yes, Martha?" she melts as he calls her name with his deep voice.

She can count the times her husband has touched her like this with one hand. The times he's turned her on without touching her private parts directly with the other.

"Oh my god, Kele... This..." she doesn't want to address it directly. It would feel like the thin curtain hiding something sexual would finally burn to the ground.

"This is great, isn't it?" he says, slowly getting off her.

She takes a deep breath, face hidden in the soft pillow.

"Yeah. I feel like new."

Blushing like crazy, part of her wants him to leave, the other needs him to stay.

"Would you turn around so I can go for-"

"No!" she startles him. "No, I'm fine."

She wraps the towel around herself, grabs her purse and gives him a hefty tip.

"Thanks, Martha," he smiles, acting as if his long erection wasn't straining against his informal shorts down there.

As he leaves, she throws herself on the bed, out of breath. When she picks up her phone, she sees missed calls from her husband. Sighing, she calls him back.

* * * * *

The pool is nice. Martha goes down soon, dodging any annoying kid that could splash her with water, and rests on a lounger.

She puts on sunscreen and relaxes under the sun. Her breasts look great under the red bikini.

"Good morning, Martha."

She opens her eyes and, through the sunglasses, sees a hunk of a man.

"Kele. How many jobs do you have around here?" she checks him out. He is dressed in a white and red pool uniform.

"I teach aqua gym. Do you want to join?"

Martha looks at the others gathering in the pool, all elderly.

"How old do you think I am?" she raises her eyebrow playfully.

"Oh, no! Not what I meant. It's for all audiences. Plus I like having you close."

She chokes on her own spit and coughs, as Kele smirks.

"Uhm. I'll just watch you from over here."

"As you wish, beautiful."

She blushes again, seeing his strong buttocks sway as he goes in.

He's very charismatic and charming. The seniors love him, especially the women. A group of three gossip and chuckle, until Kele grabs their attention.

Martha can't stop staring. His muscles are tensing and relaxing, his arms working over the water. She's unaware if the drops over his skin are pool water or his sweat. The sun is strong today.

She notices her privates moistening. Just like yesterday. He gives her glances, smiling warmly as he makes his group work out.

He finishes, and she turns around, not wanting to look like half an Oreo. As she struggles to put on sunscreen on her back, someone grabs it for her.

"I got you," says Kele.

"Thank you..."

Guarding his distance, since they are in public, he helps her apply the oily lotion on her back.

"Hey, Kele! I need help too!" one of the grannies calls for him.

"Me too!" "Me too, please!" the rest parrots.

He sighs: "I'm needed somewhere else. Listen, I am free tonight, would you like to go for a drink?"

Martha chokes again. After a moment of thought, she nods.

"Great. See you at dinner then!" he stands up and goes flatter his clientele.

With a lump in her throat, she texts hubby how her day is going while getting her back warmed up.

* * * * *

Martha has put on the sexiest dress she had. The dinner was exquisite, as always. A nice salad, chicken with a sweet sauce and tropical fruit salad as dessert.

The workers have their own dining area. Martha has found Kele talking to a female coworker.

How pathetic is it that she feels a sting of jealousy for a younger man she doesn't even know? What would Harold think?

She finishes, wipes her lips and moves out. Kele is still chatting with his close-in-age friend.

The pool has a bar, so she asks for a Cosmo and uses her phone.

"Ready for some fun?" the pool guy sits next to her. "Ponme un mojito, Em," he tells his buddy.

Martha watches how the other guy with shorter hair but the same tall, bulky frame skillfully makes another cocktail.

"You look great tonight," Kele says, staring at her thick legs coming out of her short outfit.

"You too," she says gazing at his eyes, then looking away quickly.

"Appreciate that."

She's right. His light blue polo shirt accentuates his muscles, and the tight shorts outline his-

"Do you want a taste? Emilio makes the best Mojitos," he offers his freshly made drink.

Martha presses her lips together and sips from his straw as he stares. Then she offers hers too.

He drinks straight from the glass, his bicep flexing as he sips.

"That's great. You know your drinks."

"I've had many years to learn what I like."

"Not that many. What are you, thirty nine?"

She scoffs at his obvious joke.

"You know what I like about people in their thirties?" he gets closer. "They know what they're doing. I love taking advantage of that," he's staring at her thick lips.

"Kele, I..."

He fuses his lips with hers. Such a minty taste. As he pushes his tongue inside her mouth, a fresh explosion reaches her whole cavity.

She melts in his strong arms, which surround her body firmly. One hand massages her scalp, the other lays on her lower back.

He's very good at kissing. His tongue darts around, interlaces with hers. His lips are soft, brushing hers with tenderness.

Once he finally breaks it, she pants and looks away. "Kele..."

"Tell me you didn't like it..." he holds her chin.

"Of course I did..."

Satisfied, he keeps drinking, offering her more and more.

He makes her laugh, his compliments making her cheeks burn. She's never tolerated her alcohol well, and the attention from a younger, attractive guy might be pushing her into talking more than she should.

He asks her about her marriage, so bold...

She answers honestly, and he enjoys knowing that she's in a dry spell.

"I could help you with that..." he says seductively.

"How?" her cheeks redden.

"Just come with me," he offers his hand.

Tipsy, she accepts his hand. He takes her to her room.

Dizzy, she giggles when he pushes her on the bed.

Horny, she plays with his luscious hair while he kisses her neck and fondles her mature breasts.

"Oh my god... Kele..."

He silences her with a wet French kiss, sneaking his hands down to her butt, lifting her cream dress to touch her skin.

She feels so desired, so seen... Kele can't and won't keep his hands off her, exploring all of her older body.

He takes off her dress, then her bra as he hugs her. She copies him, licking his neck, kissing his strong shoulders.

As she rests back, he starts playing with her tits.

"So big. So soft," he compliments them, bringing his face onto one and sucking.

"Fuckk..." she groans.

His hand sneaks inside her dress and, pushing her red lacy panties aside, teases her sensitive flesh.

"FUCK!" she pets him as he starts fighting with her other breast. "Kele..."

He leaves her boob to look at her, the rush of adrenaline reducing their drunkenness.

He pushes his pants down. A big bulge shows on his white boxers.

Holding her hands down, he presses it on her sexy undergarments.

"Oh my!" Martha keeps her mouth open from the surprise and pleasure. Kele pushes his tongue inside it once more.

They fuse in a long kiss, his bigger, stronger body pressing down on hers, his hands running over her body, not letting her breathe, and his penis teasing her pussy lips so good.

"I want to see it," he says, his animalistic gaze focused on hers.

He gets down, opens her legs and takes a long whiff of her privates. Martha is so ashamed, but he won't let go, exposing her to his amused view.

He pulls the panties down her beautiful legs and stares.

"I love me some bush," he touches the well-groomed dark pubes topping her vulva. "Such a pretty pussy. And," he sniffs again, closer this time, tickling her once he speaks again, "it smells so, so good..."

She loves the attention, his compliments...

Making sounds of pleasure, he kisses it. Martha jumps from the sensation, but Kele's hands keep her down firmly.

"I'm gonna eat your pussy until you beg me to stop," he smirks, burying his face in her lady parts.

Martha feels his tongue passing through, his lips over her labia and around her clitoris.

She keeps panting in surprise, unable to mutter a single word.

Her world spins, a nice kind of dizziness flowing through her.

Her whole body is burning, figuratively and literally.

His hands reach for her tits, pressing on them, circling on her areolas and pinching her nipples every time he sucks on her clit.

"Fuck! KELE!" she closes her eyes, unable to say anything else.

She feels her orgasm closing in, painfully slowly.

"I'm... cummiiiing!" she shouts with a high-pitched voice.

Instead of slowing down, as her husband would do, he inserts two fingers and rams them in fast, while his mouth is around her hard clit.

"AAAAAH!" she screams, as not only does her orgasm come, but stays for a long, exciting while.

Her legs tense, her toes curl. Wave after wave of pleasure shocks her whole world while this hunk sucks her soul from her clitoris.

"Mmmph," he grunts his approval until he stops fingering her, and his suction ends.

Putting his mouth away, he looks at her, kneeling with his big, youthful penis in his hand.

At some point he must have fully undressed and masturbated, because he's leaking a translucent fluid on the sheets.

Martha can't help herself and, slowly due to her legs barely responding, moves under Kele.

He chuckles and rests his hands on her back, while she nibbles on his dark-pink tip.

It has a sweet and manly taste, and she pushes deep, wanting to impress her lover.

"Fuck..." it's his time to revel in her care.

He hugs her from above and takes her tits, squeezing her like a cow, just with a tiny bit more of care; while kissing that sore spot in her lower back that had been bothering her so much.

She feels so dirty, so drunk. Her lips pass through his young cock, almost reaching the base.

He's shaved, his balls firm against his crotch, unlike her hubby's low-hanging nuts. So aesthetic, and big... and hard...

Her arousal stays high despite her amazing but tiring climax. She gargles, applying lots of spit to it.

"Nice fucking throat!" Kele says, dropping her sagging udders to hold her hair, pushing in.

She'd be mad if her hubby grabbed her like this, but coming from Kele, it just makes it hotter.

She lets him use her throat, her forehead reaching his abs, his balls lightly slapping her chin.

It's like he reads her mind, letting go of her once she starts lacking air.

She breathes, going even further down to kiss his balls. Even these smell good.

"You want my dick tonight, huh?"

"Yeah..." she whispers, still worshiping his ballsack.

"Then move back. I think your pussy is begging for a massage," he jokes, chasing her back and down on the comfortable bed.

Not waiting another second, he puts his tip against her hole. The thought of asking for a condom passes through her mind, but too quickly to stay.