Chapter 20: Principled Pleasure
5:32pm: Kaitlyn & Derrick
I was already stiff and sore hours ago, but now I was positively wrecked! Never before had I done ten massages in a day, back to back like that. We’d done ten last Christmas when Davie and I had given the whole family and several close friends a coupon for a four-handed massage each, but that’d been ten undemanding people spread over three relaxed vacation days. This engagement was something else entirely.
I decided that I absolutely had to seek out this garden to heal and recharge.
Out on a park bench under a shade tree, I saw the CEO woman sitting next to an old man that matched Davie’s description of the COO. I decided I wasn’t going to get a better chance to make a try at his health problems, so I walked over and asked, “May I sit here on the grass, please?”
The CEO looked like she was about to reject me, but the COO put his hand on hers in a fatherly sort of way, saying, “Of course, Ms. Gutierrez.”
He knew my name! More, he knew that I didn’t go by “Mrs. Bhat.” Danger ahead, Kate-girl!
“How are your lungs, sir?” I was about to add that Davie told me about it, but then I decided this guy was smart enough to make the inference on his own.
“Better. I don’t know how he did it when a half dozen doctors couldn’t fix it.”
I just shrugged as if it was no big deal. “Sometimes Western medicine tries to get too clever. We’re not medical doctors, so we must perforce take the simpler options, which sometimes work better. So, maybe another session, sir?”
“Oh, I don’t know if I could take that again. It was rather painful on the lungs and embarrassing besides.”
“I’d like to try anyway, sir.”
“You’re off the clock now, Ms. Gutierrez. Are you proposing a private contract?”
“No, this would be a freebie. I don’t like to see you continuing to suffer if I can help. Call it a matter of medical ethics.”
“But as you said, you are not a doctor.”
“I’m still a healer of a sort, sir. If a doctor on a plane is ethically-bound to help a heart attack victim without charge, how can I skip over a case like yours, just so I can get my dinner on time?”
It was a rhetorical question, and he treated it as such. “I’m hardly going to peel down here in the garden, young lady,” he replied with a small wry smile.
“You have lodgings here. Let’s go.”
He looked me up and down as at a nature nymph in his garden before nodding decisively, saying, “Why not?”
Up in his second-floor room, the window overlooking the same garden we’d just left, I unceremoniously removed all my clothing, then offered, “May I help you undress, sir?”
He joked, “Your husband did say you’ve got a different style.”
“I do. He told me about that breathing stone thing, and it’s a crock, quite frankly. A trick to keep your mind off the wracking spasms in your lungs, so you could focus on breathing deeply and steadily.”
“It worked.”
“Sure, but it was still just a trick, sir. My Davie came up with that one on the fly, but I’ve been thinking about it since lunch, and I’ve got probably a dozen ideas that would work as well or better.”
“Aren’t you giving me too much of a peek into the kimono?” Then realizing how inappropriate that metaphor was for a bare-naked masseuse, he laughed, saying, “Maybe smoke and mirrors would be a better way of putting it?”
“Part of the reason my better-considered ideas are superior is that they don’t rely on trickery. I can tell you what I’m doing, and it’ll still work. Now c’mon and strip, sir. Let’s get to work.”
“As you wish, young lady.”
Two minutes later I had him naked on the bed, on all fours, hacking and spitting into a glass I’d taken from the bathroom vanity. With each good hack, I sucked his elderly semi-flaccid cock down my throat, which proved a far more effective distraction than Davie’s crude trick with the river rock.
“See?” I said as he recovered from the latest bout. “Distraction without obfuscation!”
“I must say, your method is far more effective!” he replied, looking down my bare body beneath his, up on my elbows to put my mouth at the right spot. He could see everything.
He began to get more solidly tumescent; my nubile display was overcoming his erectile dysfunction, a most gratifying feeling for a woman!
Mr. Avery was tall for someone so elderly — perhaps six-two now; probably more like six-four in the prime of his life — so I was easily able to squirm my small frame beneath his all-fours arch to turn myself one-eighty on two axes, sliding his stiffening cock up my hoo-hah in a butt-up doggy pose.
“C’mon, sir, give another cough!”
I pushed some more of the crud in his lungs up and out, and he soon began coughing again, hacking and spitting past my ear. It was grotty but medically worthwhile, so I pushed the disgust down and got on with the work.
Shortly, he began pumping, pushing hard into me in time with each cough, the magic-laced pleasure of it distracting him from the pain.
A few minutes later, he gasped, “We’ll have to stop this soon, my dear. I’m getting close.”
I’d checked him out magically, finding that he was free of any sexually transmitted infections, so I replied, “Go until your release, then we’ll be done for the night.”
“But your husband!”
“He’ll understand. He took the same medical oath I did. This is my prescribed therapy, and that’s the end of it, all right? Now cough, sir!”
He did, and soon he was shooting weak jets inside me, his grip painful on my shoulders, jamming me down hard onto his spasming tool.
I let him hold me in that position for over a minute, his wracked body slowly calming and relaxing, getting heavier and heavier on my back. I was about to ask how he was feeling now when he slid off me into a flump on his side, bouncing once on the bed before laying limply there, entirely quiescent.
Frightened that I’d given the poor guy an aneurysm, I reached out with my magic and found him to be deeply asleep! I fancied that if I pulled up his eyelids, the left would read GAME and the right OVER! Well, that was all right: he’d slipped more than a quarter into my slot, so I felt I’d returned fair entertainment value.
I expended the rest of my store of magic upon his wracked throat and lungs, managed to pull the bedclothes out from under the dead weight of his unconscious frame, then tossed the freed covers over his bareness to prolong his rest in the warm arms of slumber.
I washed the glass out in the sink, set it upside down to dry, dressed, and left to go find my husband.
5:37pm: Davie & Carolyn
I was late getting out to the garden, having held Cynthia past the half-hour limit of her short-stick ticket.
I expected to find Kaitlyn waiting impatiently there for me, but there was only one person back there, the CEO woman. Dr. Condon, was it? I did not want to be alone with her again!
“Mr. Bhat,” she greeted me without turning from the landscaped display, before I could silently escape. “Sit with me a moment.”
Knowing a politely phrased command from a request, I walked around the bench and sat without a word, as far from Ol’ Red Scythe as I could get.
“Your wife is occupied working on Derrick, our COO. You met him earlier today.”
“That would explain the hacking from that window up there, then,” I replied. In point of fact, I heard a bit of moaning as well, and I was pretty sure I could guess the cause, but I didn’t call Dr. Condon’s attention to it.
She replied, “Indeed,” before turning on a dime, saying, “Mr. Bhat, I wished to have another session with you on this trip, but we’re one slot over on the schedule, so rather than leave someone out, I ceded my spot.”
This surprised me, but I didn’t say so. I figured her more for an “I’ve got mine” sort.
When I remained silent, she took a seeming non sequitur, saying, “Molly told me I’d be a blind fool if I didn’t at least try to tumble you.” I was now stunned rather than simply circumspect, but she mistook it for confusion, because she added, “Mrs. Alexander, you know.”
Recovering, I essayed, “You wish an, ah, internal massage?”
“Hah!” she barked. “Yes, quite so!”
Deciding to remain professional, I asked, “What ails you in that department, ma’am? How can I help, outside the obvious?”
“It’s a lonely post, Mr. Bhat,” she said, clearly referring to her job. “I can’t ethically socialize with anyone at the company, though I spend almost all my waking time there, and none of my social peer group appeals. Therefore, I seek out the occasional bit of talent to help me with an itch that goes far too long between scratches. Am I making myself sufficiently clear, Mr. Bhat?”
“Perfectly,” I agreed. “I’ll be happy to help. It is what I am here for, after all. Where and how would you like to do this?”
“Molly said that if I got this far, I should let you be my guide, that you’d likely take me places I wouldn’t think to even ask.”
I thought for a while, almost getting distracted by the deepening moans filtering down from the second-floor window above, then observed, “My last client said she was off to dinner with coworkers at a restaurant up the street, and the whole B&B looked deserted as I made my way out here. Is that accurate?”
“Yes, they do that, both nights of each retreat. They offer me a pro forma invite, of course, but they need to blow off steam and bond without me making it so clearly a work event, so I take these opportunities to chat with Derrick about the day’s progress instead. Your wife interrupted that.”
I was about to apologize on her behalf, but this forceful woman said, “No, don’t worry about it. I’ll be positively giddy if she can buy him a healthier life. He said you already have, so I assume your wife will help him further. He’s a bit of a father to me; son of the company founder, as you may guess from the name, but better suited to operations than to leadership, so… Anyway, I need him, and I care for him, so I’ll happily set that lost chat aside for this greater good.”
I was moved to slide closer to her, putting my hand on hers.
“Yeah, an old softie, me. Don’t tell anyone, or else,” she replied quietly, with the slightest uplift to her conservatively lipsticked mouth.
“Yes, madam Red Scythe,” I dared.
She barked a sharp laugh at that. “Still using that one, are they? Good; it suits me. Anyway, why are we chatting about office politics? I thought I was trying to trip you into bed while your wife’s occupied. I’m not a very moral person, am I?”
I ignored this self-critique, answering her first question instead. “I was trying to work out how isolated we two are out here at the moment.”
“I told the resort staff to leave Derrick and I alone until we came back inside. My people won’t start trickling back in for another few hours at earliest; many not until after midnight, the loons. This garden’s ours until then.”
I stood, wiggled out of my magewear shorts and let them fall there beside the park bench, my slippers already abandoned back by the door I’d used to get out here. That left me utterly bare, those two items being the full extent of my working outfit today. “C’mon, ma’am. I can indeed take you on a journey unlike any you’ve had before.”
“Pride goeth,” she cautioned, remaining seated. “A person in my position attracts top talent of all sorts. You are up against some, well, some very stiff competition.” She raised an eyebrow challengingly at me, but I said nothing, so she added, “But if Molly thinks you’re worth pursuing…”
She removed her business suit jacket, laying it over the back of the park bench, extracting a gold foil packet from one of its small pockets, handing it to me. “I must insist, Mr. Bhat. I’m fertile at the moment.”
The condom was in my size, another detail she must’ve gotten from Molly Alexander, so I nodded my acceptance, released control over my erection, intending to put the proffered prophylactic on as soon as I became sufficiently stiff, but Dr. Condon stopped me as I pinched the foil between my fingertips to tear the packet open.
“I need a taste of this first.”
And with that, the scary lady did eat me. Gobbled me right down.
“Come,” she said after sating herself, “we cannot have much time left before your wife finishes with Derrick.”
The coughing, hacking, and moaning continued through the window over the garden, but I said, “She won’t interrupt us.”
“She won’t be jealous?”
“Not after I explain your needs.”
“Just like that?” she asked.
“Just like that,” I confirmed, holding a welcoming hand out to her, waiting for her to take it.
She did, and we walked off down the sloped riverbank, the resort’s verdant landscaping letting us see the river while it screened us from neighboring properties. This late, I was betting no one would be out on the river; it was almost sundown, becoming too dangerous to be out rafting.
Wordlessly I began peeling her out of her fine tailored business suit, scattering the pieces over the manicured lawn, followed shortly by her plain cotton underwear. Plum purple, if you must know, matching the suit.
I returned her oral favor upon the bank, she working to keep her cries and panting low to avoid discovery, I working hard to make her lose the battle with circumspection. I lost; strong woman!
“Take me, Mr. Bhat. I need you in me.”
I slid dutifully into her only a few inches before being slowed to a stop by her near-virginal tightness. She must be in her early forties, but she’d clearly had no children, and the last of those lovers she’d bragged of must have been quite some time back.
She breathed in my ear, “Oh, you’re massive!”
At seven and a half inches, I wouldn’t describe myself that way, but I was well above average, and she clearly didn’t even use large toys on herself.
I rocked myself slowly out then back in, sinking a little further into her tight warmth each time, using the condom’s lube to ease my increasingly deep spelunking of her coital cavern.
Perhaps a minute later, I began pumping slowly in earnest, increasing my speed as she began to accommodate my girth and length.
“Oh, that’s so very nice, Devindra!”
“Thank you, Dr. Condon,” I replied between two slow strokes.
She began laughing, clutching me tightly to her. “I can be snooty, I know, but if you don’t get to use my first name while you’ve got six inches of cock inside me, shooting for seven, I don’t know when it’s allowed!”
“Very well, Carolyn. Here comes that seventh,” and I gave her an extra deep push, extracting a groan, half of pain, half of shuddering ecstasy, for she began orgasming as my glans kissed her cervix, causing her to clutch me to her warm body again.
I held myself planted deep inside her love channel, using the scant contact between the root of my cock beyond the condom’s edge and her labia minora to probe her internal state with my mage-sight while listening to her COO’s faint gasps and cries from the bedroom window. I kissed her neck and the upper slopes of her gravity-flattened breasts until she was ready for my sexual attentions to resume.
I checked Carolyn’s internals with my mage-sight and saw that she was right: she was indeed fertile tonight.
From an earlier experiment with Kaitlyn, I knew it was a colossal chore to chase after zillions of spermatozoa smeared through a woman’s reproductive tract after orgasm. I’m the sort to value every new experience, if only for the novelty, but after that particular lesson, I vowed to avoid the need for it ever again.
Zapping the ovum I sensed traveling down one of Carolyn’s Fallopian tubes would’ve been far easier, but that felt immorally invasive in this condition, since I was unable to get prior consent.
No, as much as I liked being a mage, a modern high-tech condom was the right solution here. I was grateful that Carolyn had one ready for me.
After each orgasm, once she was ready, we changed position, and I resumed my pistoning.
I extracted six orgasms from her that night in that manner: oral became missionary, which became doggy, then forward cowgirl, flatiron, and finally a standing bang with her legs wrapped around my hips and me holding her weight up as I speared deeply into her incredible scabbard, bottoming out on her now rather than the reverse, our pubes slapping together and pulling apart on each stroke.
“Gyyyyaaaaaaahhhh!” she screamed as the final crescendo crashed over her, this cast iron leader no longer able to keep quiet.
I’d been giving small slices of my attention to a magical checkup, but she was quite healthy. Nevertheless, following Kaitlyn’s motto for this sort of work, “If you poke, you must evoke,” I allowed myself to be pulled into simultaneous orgasm with Carolyn at the last, pouring magic generally over her bare body as I instinctively sealed my condom-clad glans to her cervix.
It being full dark now, I walked us down into the cold water and washed the sweat off, exchanging it for the Colorado’s thin spring runoff mud, not pulling out of her until I’d eased her fully neck-deep into the water. Carolyn’s severe bun had come undone in our exertions, but she roughly retied it before her hair got wet.
As I walked us back towards the riverbank, squatting down as I went to maintain the water’s level around our necks, she let go briefly, spun in place with a twist of her back and a powerful push against the river water with her gym-toned arms. I caught her before the current took her away, pulling her into my embrace as I retreated to a position where I could sit on the river bottom.
A few minutes later, her head resting in the crook of my neck and shoulder, she said, “That was the best sex I’ve ever had. Name your reward.”
“Ma’am,” I replied carefully, “I don’t wish to court a charge of prostitution. That means I’ll return any sort of cash tip or bonus if I can tie it to this bit of healing work for you tonight. No, this was a freebie, Carolyn. And don’t you believe I got nothing out of it.” I squeezed her breasts to punctuate this point, she having moved my hands up there from her belly once I’d found a stable seating place.
She shuddered slightly and sniffed hard but kept her back to me, so I just caressed her until she stilled. My nature senses told me she loved that sharp little shock of cold water on her breasts when my hands went roaming, and my fingertips reported the same thing when they happened to brush back over her stiff crinkled nipples.
As I sat there on the river bottom, mud squishing up into my crack, my caresses stilling as my client half-drowsed in my arms, Kaitlyn spoke to me through the mage bond, «Nicely done, me boyo!» sending a pulse of love along with it. «Gorgeous show!»
«When did you get out here?»
«Flatiron,» she said simply, telling me she’d emerged to find Carolyn face-down, arms splayed out to hang onto tufts of grass, butt up-tilted, me pounding her from behind in a plank pose. «I always wanted to know what that looked like from the outside.» Then she sent a sort of giggle through the bond.
I felt outward with my mage senses and found her hiding place, well up in the garden, close to the building, her bareness concealed behind bushes so she could get fully in touch with Gaia.
I gave her a magical hug from my riverbank seat. «Thank you for being discreet. I didn’t even hear you two finish.»
She returned a mage-kiss, replying, «I think you were too busy to hear anything at that moment, because I definitely heard you two!» She let me contemplate that for a time, then told me exactly what she’d done for Mr. Avery. Every detail.
«Nicely done, me girlie!» I essayed and added a mage-kiss of my own.
Aloud, I suggested quietly in Carolyn’s ear, “Let’s go air dry.”
Climbing out of the water felt curiously cold, the warm spring night air perhaps eight degrees above the river — degrees Celsius, you American barbarians! — but we’d gotten used to the river’s chill, and now the water was evaporating rapidly from us in the desert night air.
Once dry, we warmed right up.
We were laying on our backs, limbs akimbo upon the manicured lawn to finish drying our cracks and crevices, watching the stars when a tentative voice sounded behind us. “Ma’am? Dr. Condon?”
“Oh, hi, Julie,” my night’s lover replied with admirable calm for a woman caught naked in the night, clearly drawing on the same poise that must have stood her well in untold boardroom battles. “Join us, will you?”
The other woman — an underling I guessed, rather than resort staff — was silent for several seconds, then said, “Uh, yes ma’am.”
“It’s after hours, Julie. That was an invitation, not an order. You have every right to refuse if you don’t wish to join us. And you can join at whatever level you wish; you don’t have to get naked if you don’t want to.”
The younger woman thought that over, studied us, and then peeled to her underwear, laying out there with us, staring up at stars scarcely dimmed by light pollution from this remote desert town.
Three others joined us in time, undressing to various degrees, including my wife who emerged from hiding after Julie made our stargazing a group event. Kaitlyn lay bare beside me, her hand in mine, satisfied smiles on our faces. We’d done a good bit of work out here today.
Upon returning home that night, I took Kaitlyn straight to bed, where I had her ride my face into dreamland.