Air BBC

He made eye contact with his wife in the pool, and she said, "Nice ride!" Tim was grinning as he walked to her, and said, "If you play your cards right, I might let you take her for a spin!" Erica laughed, and began swimming over to the pool ladder. She pulled herself up, her perfect form emerging onto the sun deck, as Tim walked over.

Erica said, "Did you pick up the items I asked for?" Tim set the bags down on an adjacent chair, and told her he did, and they made some small talk, while Erica was wringing the water out of her hair. Tim took a sip of her mojito, and then noticed her eyes focus on the Guest house.

Tim turned around and saw Mr. Caster walking out in some form fitting, red boxer swimming trunks, that seemed to hug his strong thighs and muscles. Tim waved, but he couldn't tell if Mr. Caster saw him through his sunglasses. Mr. Caster went and dove in the pool, and swam over by the waterfall. He stood underneath it for a few seconds, and then began wading over to where the Butterworths were sitting. He didn't use the ladder, and effortlessly pulled himself up on the ledge, and stood up.

Apollo Caster looked at the Butterworths, and said, "You have a very lovely place here. Thank you for allowing me to be your guest." Tim stood up and shook Apollo's hand.

Erica noticed that Tim was a much smaller man, than Apollo; almost like a boy standing next to a full-grown man. Erica said, "We have towels in that closet by the waterfall, if you'd like one."

Apollo looked at Erica, and said, "That's very kind of you. I think I'll air-dry for the moment."

Tim said, "Yes, this might be the last day of Sun for a few days, so you should take advantage of this weather! Oh, and I brought the new bed sheets. They're in this bag...," and Tim went to hand the bag to Apollo.

Instead of reaching for the bag, Apollo said, "Thank you, Tim. May I speak with you in the Guest house for a moment?" Apollo turned and walked towards the Guest house. Tim looked at Erica, and he could see her eyebrows raise over her sunglasses, signaling a "beats me?"

Then, Tim followed Apollo to the Guest house. They walked inside and Tim followed Apollo into the bedroom. Apollo turned to Tim, and said, "I trust you received the $4,000?"

Tim was holding the bag with the bed sheets, and said, "Yes, thank you, Apollo. Has everything been to your satisfaction?"

Apollo Caster went to the cabinet and grabbed a towel and draped it around his shoulders, and replied, "Indeed it has, Tim. The reason that I asked, is because I need a favor from you, and I will compensate you handsomely for it. Two favors, actually."

Tim regarded the statement, and said, "Sure Apollo, as long as it's legal, I would at least be happy to hear you out."

Apollo directed Tim to sit on the bed. Tim did, and Apollo handed him an envelope with a thousand dollars in it. Tim raised his eyebrows, and Apollo said, "Tim, first of all, my Father's name is Apollo. So as not to confuse me with him, or anyone you speak with, please refer to me as either Mr. Caster, or Sir, from now on."

Tim thought this reasoning odd, but agreed. Apollo asked, "Tim, I noticed that you have a golf cart. Do you play golf?"

Tim nodded his head. There was a brief silence, and then Tim added, "I am pretty good."

Mr. Caster smiled and said, "Excellent. I have a couple business clients that will be arriving this weekend. They play golf, but I do not. I have been blessed with many things, but my ability to putt, is not one of them." Apollo lied.

He was an exceptional golfer, but certain things had come to his attention, as of 5 minutes ago. And like any businessman, Apollo was weighing his opportunity cost. He continued, "Tim, I was wondering if you would accept the $1,000 in that envelope, and play with them, Saturday, on my behalf. You will be playing as my representative. If they should ask you 'How the account is doing,' you will simply tell them that everything is going as planned, and that the account being converted as we speak."

Tim thought about that, and the cash, and remarked, "Apo.... Mr. Caster, this sounds to good to be true. What's the catch?"

Mr. Caster looked out the window at Erica. She was turning over on all fours to lay on her stomach. He then replied, "There is no catch, so to speak.... You would be helping me save some time, since I have other pressing matters that will need my attention this weekend."

Tim thought that all sounded above board, and then Mr. Caster continued with, "There is one other favor that I ask." Tim thought, here we go.... What sort of contraband will I be helping this guy smuggle...? Mr. Caster looked away from the window, and said, "What is your wife's name?"

Tim's thoughts switched gears, and he replied "Erica...." Mr. Caster then said, "After the golf game, Saturday, I would like to take yourself and Erica out to a nice dinner. Take that money, and go buy her some Christian Louboutin heels, and a little black dress. Do it today, and ask her to forgive me for stealing you away, from your husbandly duties on a nice Saturday. From my experience, she will forgive you, after you give her the presents."

Tim pictured Erica giving him one of her legendary blow jobs, in their shower. Caster continued, "Also, should my business clients ask what we are doing later, tell them we will be at the Zebra Martini Bar at 8pm, and that drinks are on me." Tim felt that was very generous of Mr. Caster. He had been wanting to play some golf lately, and show off his new cart, anyways. And the presents for Erica, would make her appreciate his assertiveness.

Tim was starting to like this, Mr. Caster. He seemed like the kind of guy that really knew how to get what he wanted.

Tim agreed to Mr. Caster's requests. He decided to go tell Erica about what they had talked about, and then head to the Saks Fifth Avenue and pick up her gifts. He thanked Mr. Caster, and told him to let him know if there was anything else, he needed. As he walked out of the Guest house towards Erica, he couldn't help but smile, at how lucrative this AirBBC experience had become.

Tim's thoughts were mamy, but most of all, he would have to make sure that Mr. Caster received a 5-star rating! Tim then sauntered over, and sat beside Erica, who was still laying face down. Her face was turned the other way, but she turned to face him when he began speaking.

"Honey, I am going to head to Saks Fifth Avenue and pick you up something nice for you to wear this weekend, for your half-birthday. Tell me, darling, what is your shoe size, again?" he said.

Erica wondered what had gotten into him, but said, "I'm a 7. What did you have in mind?" Tim filled her in on the dinner at Zebra Martini Bar, but wanted to wait until he got back with her presents before he mentioned the golf game. She agreed it sounded like fun, and asked him if he would text her before coming home, in case she thought of something they needed for dinner. He did and then leaned in to give her a kiss. When their lips met, Tim felt a stir in his pants and decided to try and hurry and get back.

With that, he stood up, and said, "See you in a few, honey.... Oh, and Erica, he did say for us to please call him either Mr. Caster, or Sir. He said it had something to do with not confusing him with his father, or something." Tim turned to leave, and felt the envelope cash in his pocket. He went and hopped back on the golf cart, and noticed Mr. Caster walking out towards the pool. He thought he smelled cologne, as he honked the horn and drove away.

At this point in the day, Erica was feeling pretty good. She heard Mr. Caster jump into the pool behind her, and could hear him swimming around. She went to take another sip of the Mojito, and noticed she was empty. She rolled over and asked Mr. Caster if he would like anything to drink.

Apollo said, "You should bring me the best drink you have," and then he went back to swimming laps.

Erica thought that was a different response than what she had expected, but found herself getting up from where she was sitting, and began walking towards the house. She noticed him swimming as she walked. Then, she went inside and grabbed Tim's Yeti and made Mr. Caster one of her best Mojitos, along with another one for herself.

Erica looked outside of the window and saw Mr. Caster still swimming laps, at a steady pace, from one end of the pool to the other. She wondered how he could still have any energy, after his little tryst from earlier? She looked in the mirror, and put her hair up in a scrunchie. Then, she found some beach music on her phone, and sync'd it with the outdoor speakers.

Feeling like she was on vacation, she put her Ray-bans on, grabbed the drinks and descended down the path, towards her AirBBC guest.

Mr. Caster was standing at the foot of one of the Chaise lounges, drying his body with a towel, when he caught an unimpeded sight of Erica Butterworth, for the first time.

Apollo would have paid a million dollars, to experience what his eyes were telling him. Mr. Caster had done a handful of hallucinogenic drugs; LSD, PCP, DMT, Magic Mushrooms.... But what he was experiencing right now, was a vision that he hoped to see when he died. Mrs. Butterworth was coming towards him, a tropical mint drink in each hand, walking across a waterfall.

She was smiling at the steps in front of her. Her nipples were thick and hard. With each step she took, the most colossal tits he had ever seen, were bouncing to-and-fro on invisible springs. Her skin was golden. Her stomach was flat, with a tiny belly button. Her thighs were thick, but didn't touch when she walked. Her hair was luxuriant, and fixed up on top of her head, like a knob for grasping.

Everything about her her seemed functional, and yet chaotic at the same time -- just like the music that was playing. All of his mind became completely focused on one truth - he had to make her his newest slut.

Erica converged with his path at the bottom of the stairway. "Happy Tuesday, Mr. Caster" she said, as she handed him his drink.

Mr. Caster smiled, and said, "Thank you, Erica. I usually wait until hump day, before I partake, but there is an exception to every rule," as he rose his Yeti to cheers with hers. They did, and took a sip, regarding each other from up close. "This mojito is very good. The mint leaves, and music.... The steel drums, it reminds me of home."

Erica went to go sit down on the chaise lounge again, and looked up to him and said, "Where is home, Mr. Caster?"

He approached her and said, "Lately, my home has become a different AirBBC, each month. But I am originally from Margo island."

Erica's eyes lit up from behind her Ray-bans. "You grew up on an island? Tell me more!"

Mr. Caster took a sip from his drink, and sat down in the chaise lounge next to her. He reached into his pocket, and took out a plastic zip lock bag, that contained a pipe. He looked at Erica, and remarked, "It would be an honor, Mrs. Butterworth, and I would also like to hear your story, in return. But before I tell you my story, would you mind if I smoked some of the Margo Leaf, from my home Country?"

She was curious, but saw no harm, and gently said, "Be my guest." Mr. Caster took a lighter from the bag, and lit the pipe. He inhaled deeply, causing Erica to noticed the tattoo markings on his shoulders.

He began, "I grew up quick. I was very poor. A hurricane came and wiped out my family when I was 7 years old. I survived on coconut and berries and fish for many days, until I was adopted by wolves." He glanced at her from behind his sunglasses. He could see her perfect eyebrows raised up, over her shades. He started laughing. She hit his arm. "I wish that I was raised by wolves. I was actually raised by a Nuns."

"That was how I learned English, and how I learned to read and write, and do math, and other things. I also learned about discipline. I was very unruly," he said.

Erica was laying back now, listening to him speak. She liked the smell of the smoke. He offered her the pipe, and she hesitated, so he began to pull it back. Then she set her drink down, and outstretched her hand. He noticed her little white hand, outstretched. It looked very soft, and he put the pipe and lighter in her hand.

She sat up, lit it, and inhaled. Then, she exhaled smoke into the sky. She remarked, that she couldn't believe that it didn't make her cough. Mr. Caster informed her that the Margo Leaf will not make you cough. It's a very rare leaf, only found on his island. He told her that its leaves were oddly shaped, and looked like the spades, of playing cards. Then he began to speak of its medicinal value, and something about tribal culture.

As he was speaking, she noticed how thick and muscular his whole body was. She was listening to his deep voice, but her eyes began to linger on his giant muscles. He had muscles on top of muscles. Even his toes seemed like they had muscles.

Her mind began to focus back upon the beginning of their conversation. She asked, "Where is Margo Island?" and she took another sip of the mojito.

He said, "At the tip of the sword."

She repeated him in the form of a question, "The tip of the sword? What does that mean?"

He asked her if she was familiar with the constellations. She took another hit of the Margo Leaf, and handed the pipe back to him. She said she could point out the Big Dipper, the Little Dipper, and that she thought she could usually pick out Orion, also.

Mr. Caster said, "Very good, Erica! They say, that the islands of the Earth, are also constellations, for the sky dwellers. This is what my native culture believes, you see. Some believe the Orion island chain, may have been near the City of Atlantis, just off the Coast of West Africa. These islands, are the Worldly representation, and expression, of the constellation Orion. As above, So below.... As the maxim goes."

She took a sip of her drink, and closed her eyes for a second. She felt her mind traveled out into space, and became apart of the galaxy, for a minute. She turned to look back at the Earth. All the while, Mr. Caster was speaking to her. He was describing all of the different islands, that surrounded Margo, and how each island served a purpose.

Erica was growing very interested in the history lesson. She began trying to recall what the constellation of Orion looked like, in the night sky. She heard herself tell Mr. Caster that she wished it was dark outside, so she could see the constellation.

Mr. Caster lit his pipe, and took a deep hit. He then stood up, and turned to face her. A giant, dark silhouette blotted out the Sun. He looked like a monolith, with all of his tattooed markings, and stone-like appearance. As her eyes began to focus, Erica noticed the tattoos she had seen from before, now actually appeared to be of a celestial nature, representing the archipelago he was from. Her mind began to empty. She began to relax, as she gazed at the giant Man in front of her.

Erica noticed intricate details within each of his tattoos, and she leaned forward to get a better look. It reminded her of a treasure map, and it covered his dark, powerful body. Mr. Caster began to speak again. As he did, smoke was undulating from his mouth, and drifting around her body. He pointed at his well-defined shoulder, and spoke of the island that it represented, embodied by Orion's shoulder. As he spoke, she watched his muscles ripple. He guided her attention to the next island, which was atop his other shoulder.

As Mr.Caster spoke about its mountains and waterfalls, she glanced down at something she noticed. His front package, in his red stretchy trunks began to move. He remarked about the tattoos on his arms and hands that represented the island chain's ports and ship harbors.

Erica was listening, but her eyes diverted, from behind her sunglasses, wondering if his bulge was actually growing, or if she was hallucinating? Then her eyes followed his hands as they pointed to his calves and ankles, where tattoos resided, representing the other islands with esoteric symbols. As she studied the symbols, she realized that he had not mentioned his island, Margo.

She looked up to him, with those hazel eyes that had turned yellow tint. She felt like she was looking at a celestial God. She said that he had not mentioned Margo yet, or the tip of the sword. Mr. Caster asked her if she recalled Orion's belt in the sky?

Erica nodded and her eyes traveled down pecs, slipping through the middle of his 6-pack, one by one. Just above his red trunks, she could see the top of three ornate ink patterns. Just below his trunks, she began to see the thick head of his cock, beginning to emerge.

Her eyes fighting with her mind, as to what information was deemed the most necessary of her attention. She casually removed her sunglasses, in order to see it better.

Mr. Caster was speaking down to Erica, about the significance of Orion's belt. She had just put the tip of her sunglasses in her mouth, and her eyes were focused on his manhood, trying to escape his trunks. In turn, his eyes were focused on those bountiful tits that were barely tied up, holstered in satin, and pointed at the tree tops, behind him.

Erica sat up further, and her thick thighs opened up, putting one small foot on either side of his large feet. Her gaze was not lost on him. Watching her nipples stiffen, and take aim like loaded pistols, he could feel his cock swell even more, and slowly expand, beyond his control, even further down his leg. He heard himself telling her the history of the three islands that made up the belt, of the island chain.

With each island he spoke of he saw less focus in her eyes, and more of a longing behind them, as her pupils seemed to expand.

Apollo felt a breeze on the head of his cock, trying to free itself, as if gasping for air.

Erica felt her brain turn off. She didn't want to move. She felt herself suck on her tongue, as she gazed upon the entirety of his cock, and its width -- and its magnificent helmet. It looked as wide as her fist. She heard the words he was saying, but wasn't processing his sentences.

Then, she heard the word "husband," and she remembered to breathe. Her now red-tinted eyes looked up to his, and with a perplexed stare, she said, "I'm sorry, what about my husband?"

Mr. Caster asked her again, "I asked if you knew when your husband will be home?"

Erica's mouth began to answer, but she couldn't find the words. His question made her wet. For a brief moment, her thoughts drifted to Tim shopping, for her. She pictured how she would look, in what he bought her. She wondered how Mr. Caster thought she would look, in what he bought her.

As her mind processed these questions, her eyes slowly left Mr. Caster's, and traveled down his solid chest, lingering on his strong abdominals, and finally settled on the biggest cock head she had ever seen, in plain view now, extending past his pant leg of his swim trunks.

Erica remembered the woman from yesterday, and the shoes she was wearing. "He is shopping for me, right now. He is such a good husband," she said, as she turned to set her sunglasses on the table.

Erica grabbed her scrunchie, and said, "I told him to get me a size 7.... in Louboutin heels," as she arched her back, and began tying her hair up. Her breasts were thrust out, and wobbling, as she did this. Her eyes focused directly into his, and said, "Don't you think they would look good on me?"

Erica smiled, for some reason, and then she reached into her beach bag and pulled out some lip gloss. She began to apply it, while looking at him, and said, "Better on me, than that woman, from this morning."

Erica's tongue ran across her front teeth, and then she put the lip gloss back in her bag. She looked back up at him, and said, "My husband deserves to win that AirBBC award, so very bad."