Erin was sore after the procedure for the next few days and was still spending a lot of time in bed when Mike came home from the hospital. He was a little surprised when he was picked up at the hospital by his father instead of Erin. She looked like she was uncomfortable when he saw her in bed and she sat up to greet him in a gingerly manner. He asked if everything was ok with the baby, and Erin smiled and said the baby was fine. She had had some rough morning sickness and some cramping and had gone to the doctor to get checked out, she told him. If the doctor called to see how she was doing after her visit, that's what it was about.
The next week, Erin went back to the clinic for her follow up examination and the doctor said she seemed to be healing well. Upon examining her uterus and cervix, he saw signs that she was nearly ready to ovulate. The doctor warned her of that fact and she thanked him honestly. She needed to get pregnant again quickly in order to fool Mike into thinking that she was still carrying his child. Even she was impressed to be fertile again so quickly after just terminating a pregnancy. She really was an exceptional breeder!
The doctor suspected ovulation to occur the next day and an ovulation test confirmed it. Erin soon felt the associated sexual aggression and libido that she had come to associate with that time of month. While Mike rested at home, Erin put on her best red dress that her breasts strained against and gave a very generous look at her legs. Sauntering to a nearby bar, she found her target: John, the brother of her co-worker. Her co-workers grandparents had just died of extreme old age, a sign of genetic quality and strength. Fucking her co-worker would be too likely to be found out, but his married brother was a less risky endeavor.
A few suggestive one liners and some "careless" brushing of her breasts against his arm and they were soon in a nearby wooded area. He caressed her enormous breasts, marveling at their heaving weight. She was rubbing her crotch against the bulge in his pants, making his thinking blurry. He was clumsily trying to pull down her dress over her breasts and Erin saved them both by undoing the zipper down her back, letting the dress fall down around her. John wanted to step away for a moment to see her nearly naked in her bra and panty glory but Erin refused and was undoing the front of his pants. In one motion, she dropped his pants and boxers, letting his erection stab toward her.
She was immediately on her knees, slobbering on his pulsing penis. He had never known a woman so hungry to be fucked, he hardly had time to think. That was Erin's plan. Don't give him time to think about his wife or condoms. As she sucked him, she undid her bra, letting her breasts spill loose and her nipples brush against his legs. He groped her chest and she, still sucking him, pulled her wet panties down her legs.
John, somewhat in a stupor, obliged her when Erin demanded that he get on his back. He lay staring as her pulsing womanhood, wet, fertile and hungry for a new embryo to fill it, impaled itself on his manhood. They gasped together in their union, both shocked by the intensity of the feeling. Their bodies, sensing the sexual intensity and genetic quality that the other could provide, increased their arousal to a fever pitch. This was not "having sex," "making love" or even "fucking." This was pure animal breeding in its purest sense. Rarely do two such specimen come together, but when they do, its a special evolutionary moment.
Her firm, round ass slapped hard against his muscular legs, her breasts crashing hard into his chest. Together they groaned and screamed in wild sexual frenzy. In a testosterone fueled moment, John flipped Erin onto her back and pumped her hard, his legs impressing her with their strength. She leaned up, watching him pump her. She watched his manhood slide in and out of her, anxiously waiting for it to inject her with its content. He was getting close and she was in a state of ecstasy. John finally let lose a powerful animal cry and filled her vagina with ultra potent sperm. Erin had guessed correctly: John was truly an alpha male breeder. The instant was marked by Erin screaming a sound that neither could remember hearing before: a mix of joy, release, triumph and fulfillment. If evolution could experience emotion, it would feel pride in how well it had done its job.
John's sperm filled her, his hormone rich semen causing her vaginal walls to convulse with passion. Her uterus demanded the chance to re-fill itself. The loss of Micheal's embryo was unacceptable to her biology but the chance to make up for it with a better seed was immediately granted. Within the hour, the virile sperm fertilized her precious egg, a truly exceptional new life began forming. Phenomenal quality has been created, bringing humanity further from their primitive beginnings. Meanwhile, Erin lay quietly on her back in the forest as nature took care of the rest.
Erin returned home the next day, saying she went to visit her parents. Mike was suspicious that she left without saying anything to him, even if he had been asleep. She had been acting strangely for the past week, like she was hiding something. Erin avoided him and had been taking pain medication. Now the pain pills were gone and she seemed oddly upbeat. Mike said nothing.
He was feeling better after his surgery and was starting to move around more. This came as a surprise to Erin one day, who still expected him to be resting. It had been several days since she had been bred by John and she was dying to know if her egg was fertilized. Standing in the bathroom, she waited for the fertilization test to give her its results. The strip gave her a resounding POSITIVE, causing her to yelp in joy. The noise caught Mike's attention. He stepped into the bathroom and briefly saw her reflection in the mirror holding some kind of medical testing applicator. She screamed that she was in the bathroom before he could see her and he left, confused at what he just saw.
The next day Mike was taking out the trash, when he saw an empty box through the plastic bag that read "Home Fertilization Test." Tearing the bag open, he read the box and saw that it was for ultra early pregnancy testing. The test could be taken a few days after sex, before the egg had even implanted into the uterus.
John's betrayal was enormous. Had she lied about being pregnant with his baby? No, that couldn't be, she had shown him the positive pregnancy test over a month ago. So how could she be testing herself for early pregnancy when she was already pregnant? She had been to the doctor's office the day of his surgery. Whether she had miscarried or aborted his child, she was now expecting another man's baby. Either way she was playing him for a fool. He re-read the box. "Used for pre-implantation testing," he said. There were more than one way to play God using medical science, Mike thought as he got in his car and drive to the pharmacy.
Later that night, Mike made Erin her favorite meal and bought her favorite bottle of wine. He made a surprise of it, telling her that with all they had been through in the past few days medically, they deserved to celebrate coming through the other side in one piece. Erin agreed, despite guilt over lying to her boyfriend. He was a good man and would make a good father to her child, even if it wasn't his. As she sat back and relaxed, Mike crushed the morning after pill he bought that day and slipped it into her wine. After dinner, they went to bed and as Erin rode on top of him, he watched the spot between her legs, knowing that the growing blastocyst was being denied a safe site to implant. "Sorry buddy," he thought as Erin finally shuddered in pleasure, "she's mine."
The End.
Cabana Massage
"30, 60 or 90?"
"hmm...what would you suggest?"
"Para me, Seniorita, I would chooce za 90, but wis za deluxe packaje."
"Deluxe package? What's that?"
"Dos Hombres, quatros manos."
"hmmm...anything better than that?"
"Si, Seniorita. Za locacione. Take za VIP cabana y you see nussing but za waves y za san'. No ozer cabanas around."
"hmmm...that sounds interesting. Let's do that one."
She gave her room number and looked toward the beach wondering where the VIP cabana was hiding. In less than an hour the sun would setting and she would be closing in on a place she had longed for since she landed: sleep.
Jorge escorted her to a small golf cart and watched her white cotton sarong wisp around her legs while sh
e stepped into her seat. She sat cross legged, leaning against the frame of the cart and watched through the frayed brim of her straw sun hat as the waves crashed to the shore. She watched the tires of the cart crush a path through the sugary sand, smiled to herself then kicked a sandal free and let her toes drag lightly across the sand as they drove. It felt hot and the warmth of the sun blushed the tan skin of her calf and foot. She sighed audibly and closed her eyes, turning her face to hanging sun.
Jorge watched her. He drove, but he watched her. He loved American women. This one was particularly wonderful. "Puneta!" he kept repeating under his breath. He loved how they all wore bikini's everywhere. He loved their oversized sunglasses and hats. The woman to his left had one of those hats and her sunglasses seemed exceptionally large. Her sarong was longer than a lot he'd seen, but it was sheer and hung from her hips tightly only to fall gracefully past her thighs and dance at the bottom with the weight of the tiny knots tied to the frayed ends. She wore a matching white bikini top that covered very little. Even her pedicured toes matched: french with neat white tips. "Puneta!" he grunted to himself.
She looked toward Jorge and noticed that the hotels had all vanished. They were past them all. Lost in the trance of the sea she hadn't realized how far they had driven, how far they were from her hotel. 10 minutes into their ride and the cabana was in view. The beach was vacant of footprints, vacant of divots, it was absent of just about everything, especially people. They pulled to a stop and they cabana was directly between her and the crashing waves. She slipped the driver a handsome tip as he pointed to the cabana.
The sun was sitting almost at line of sight. She pulled down the brim of her hat, stood and looked toward pending bliss. Someone had raked all the sand around the cabana and the 100 yards or so that lay between her and it. There it sat, it's rivets carved carefully, unbroken all around her. She couldn't resist the urge and kicked her sandals free. Stepping softly, she waited for the sand to break under her toes and the she dug them in, curling and crushing it between them. The crust baked on top gave way to a cooler bed beneath and each step she took she relished the sensations.
A turquoise sky was melting into a bluer ocean and behind the gently ruffling cream drapes that hung from the four corners of the cabana, it seemed to be exploding with vibrant shouts of color. Shadows were growing longer and stretched from the darkening cedar posts across the snakes of sand delicately raked beneath her feet. Inside the cabana was a plush massage table, aimed parallel with the water line. Anyone lying on this bed could turn to watch the waves roll across the beach in all their wonder while some expert kneaded and pushed away all the aches that had been stored away. She stepped closer, hearing soft music as she approached. It was light and beckoning, and it clung to the drapes like wisps of cotton candy, trilling out into the air and dissolving on her skin.
Two men stood on either end of the table, hands clasped behind their backs and hiding their eyes behind dark aviators. They stood rooted to their spots, sentinels at each end, dressed in matching linen uniforms. Entering the cabana, she removed her hat and sunglasses, placed them on the warm sand and smiled at the man who stood at the head of the table. He took her extended hand and bowed to her, lightly kissing her just below her wrist, then hummed deeply, "Welcome, Seniorita."
He was tall, fine featured and clearly not hispanic. His sleeves rolled to his forearms and other than the two buttons in the center of his shirt that held it on his body, it hung loosely and comfortable from his broad shoulders. He was athletic and muscular, lean and fit. He hadn't shaved in several days, the growth even, but tempered.
"You may change here and if you should need anything, you only need ask. My name is Carmine Estacion and my assistant is Senior Cruz. Beneath the table there are towels, a robe, and an assortment of beverages."
Carmine turned and pulled a thick braided rope. Carmel colored drapes uncoiled from the ceiling on all four sides and formed a changing area for her. Senior Cruz and Carmine Estacion disappeared behind the fabric and waited.
She stood motionless, analyzing who would have their hands all over her. Senior Cruz looked native, and though he hadn't spoken, she guessed his linguistic skills were limited to spanish only. He was taller than most of the Mexican men she saw, still, he wasn't taller than his white associate. They both looked strong and capable and she realized quickly she was attracted to them.
She untied her sarong and let it fall to her feet. Carmine watched the sun project her silhouette against the rear curtain and smiled to himself. His eyes roamed over the shadowy images, swallowing hard. Her hair tumbled to mask her face as she looked down to guide her hands as they pushed the tight bikini bottom off her hips. His smiled melted to awe as she bent over to remove the bottoms. She turned to face the sun and unsnapped her top. Carmine knew he was in trouble. Senior Cruz swore under his breath. "Puneta!"
"Carmine, can you raise the drapes? I'd like to look at the ocean."
"Seniorita, you are not wearing your robe or towel."
"Carmine, do as you're told."
Carmine tugged the braided rope and slowly the drapes began to recoil towards the cedar ceiling where they had been hidden.
She watched the carmel linen roll up revealing the view she wanted. The waves thundered mercilessly against the pitched beach. Their fight was endless, their stamina marvelous. She loved the way the freshly bathed sand shimmered, reflected the sky like a darkened mirror. The wind was soft and lightly tickled her skin and feathered through her hair. She stretched her hands high above her head and arched her back, inhaling deeply, then purred like a languid cat. Her exhale was purposefully demonstrative. Carmine and Senior Cruz had been hidden from her view while she undressed and she was unaware of their secretive admirations. She moaned her exhale and accentuated the curve of her back, pushing her erect nipples as far forward as possible and rounded out her perfectly tan buttocks with the bend of a knee for an impressively effective seductive stretch. She had wanted a reaction from her audience, surely her figure and pose deserved such. She had been openly gawked at the moment she exited the cab to her hotel. Upon leaving her room, clad in the white sarong and bikini the was an embarrassment for coverage, the looks lasted longer, the chirping had begun from the less disciplined admirers and even the other women began to shoot her jealous looks. Surely, with nothing on, the sun dancing across her beautiful navel and hips, shimmering across her heavenly breasts, this sort of stretch and sultry moan would exact a reaction. They were motionless. Stone cold statues. The only hint of acknowledgment, maybe, was she thought she caught Carmine clenching his teeth through the corner of her eye. When she glanced his way, he was facing her, but made absolutely no movement or sound to indicate he was even alive. Senior Cruz was just as resolute. She smiled to herself and simply offered a "hmpf" as she turned to lie on the table.
Faustino Cruz held his breath. He was determined not to show her how she affected him. The moment he saw her coming he swore under his breath. "Joder!" "No shit, Faustino. Don't screw this up," Carmine had warned him. They had worked together for the last two seasons and had almost instantly felt like the other was a brother. Faustino had made his way from one resort to another from Peru until he landed here, in Cabo San Lucas. He lied about his masseuse experience but his customer reviews were nothing short of amazing. He was often requested and soon was promoted to the VIP cabana where he met Carmine. Carmine was in his early 30's and took the younger Faustino under his wing, made sure he was given equal shifts and taught him how to look out for bigger tippers and how to handle American women vs Europeans. He taught him to learn his customers approach, to read their body language, and how to adjust the pressure and intensity of his massage without having to ask. Faustino finally confided, admitted that he won his reviews by providing sexual favors to his clients. Carmine frowned when he told him, warned of the danger and risk that entailed, and mostly Faustino listened.
When their client lay on the table, face down, Faustino exhaled. Then he flashed
his enormous smile at Carmine. There was no doubt what he had in mind and Carmine Estacion was worried this was a woman beyond his self control. The problem was, he had already read this woman and knew what she needed. Perhaps, if she had been less beautiful, less tempting, he could easily dismiss his own need. He knew he could give her exactly what and how she needed it. He knew that he could make her beg him, that the massage would open up a gateway for her she had never known. That she would thank him, and that she would be exactly what he wanted. The knowing was the problem.
"Seniorita, please enjoy the view. For the next 90 minutes you will be in complete bliss. We will use a combination of oils and lotions designed to bring extreme comfort and pleasure to your whole body. Are there any areas in particular that you would like us to pay special attention." Carmine asked because he had to, but he already knew what she was going to say.
"Oh, I'm sure you'll find all the right spots." She raised her ass in the air slightly and audibly exhaled.
Standing at her feet, Faustino Cruz had planted his eyes squarely on her ass and when she raised it up he felt his cock harden when he saw a glimpse of her pussy.
"Very well. Enjoy." Carmine hummed, watching her nestle into place.
She turned to look out at the ocean. The sky had turned to a steely blue, where a few long stretched clouds were lighting on fire. The sands looked more like brown sugar. She had waited for this moment since she arrived. This time the exhale was for her.
Faustino and Carmine lathered their hands in oil, then looked at each other quickly. Both turned their attention to the magnificent woman and tried to hide a guilty smile. Carmine fanned out his hands like the wings of a bird, thumbs side by side, and placed them at the top of her back, then gently slid them down the curve of her spine. His hands were large by any standard, and together they easily spanned the whole of her back and curved down her sides. He pushed past her small waist, leaning forward, up the curve of her hips, rounding the whole of her ass cheeks and then let his fingers slide down to her sides. He pulled his hands firmly back up the sides of her rib cage, her breasts and then back up to his starting position again. Faustino's hands began at her ankles, then ran up her calves, fell to the inside of her thighs and all the way to the base of her ass, letting his fingers glance the inside of her pussy, as he went, then, as his hands neared Carmines he dropped them to the outside of her thighs and firmly back to his origination. They worked in unison, allowing the oil to heat her body beneath their hands and kept an even, steady, comforting pace. She softly moaned as their hands neared each other.
Arousing Family Page 72
