Scenes from the Scenic Motel

We set down our towels in the cabaña next to the tub and lowered ourselves in. Already taking the soak were three guys and a couple. Two of the guys were somewhat older than the rest of us who were mostly in our 30s. Cindy sat herself next to the youngest of the stags, with me on her other side. We engage in the small talk typical in a shared basin of naked horny adults, each occasionally glancing up trying to make sense of the porn on an overhead TV, blurry from a hopelessly worn out tape cassette.

The couple was seated across from us, fondling each other. We eventually notice they were apparently working the top of the head of his erection with her and then his palm while she stroked the shaft. The back of his hand was poking up and down out of the water by now, and then it hits us: this is a deep wooden tub, not a fiberglass spa. The seats are low enough so the water covers most women's breasts even when sitting upright. His cock must have been at least 11 or 12 inches long. They were obviously there to show him off and maybe find a size queen for him. Cindy nudges me and firmly whispers in my right ear, declaring that while it may be an erotic visual, no way is she getting near "that thing", the pool table incident was more than enough of that.

OK, so it's clear at this point who she isn't going to fuck tonight. I mock pout back that it would've been fun to watch, followed by my being on the business end of a sharp elbow in the ribs.

While that little show was going on, Cindy had been chatting up the moderately attractive, slightly stocky fellow on her other side, probably charmed by what I guess was a Canadian or possibly light British accent. After a little more of this repartee she adjusts her sitting position and scoots over just enough to be on his lap or nearly so. A little more moving about and she's in his lap: message received, he can go for the gold, an unspoken "do me". Though his (and her) apparent intent was a discreet underwater fuck right there in front of me and everybody else in the tub, nah, it was obvious. Cool. Cindy is slightly bobbing up and down, which made it clear she was rubbing her pussy against his cock, trying to make things happen.

But no joy. The disinfectant in the water is washing away her natural lubrication and making entry highly unlikely to impossible. After a few more minutes of stroking her clit against his cock head and shaft, enjoying every bit of the stimulation, she settles down in his lap, and he and I quietly exchange room numbers, to resume later.

Overheated by the action as well as the hot tub water, we excuse ourselves and grab our towels to dry off. Heading back to our room, with the walk facing the road I'm doing nothing to hide my upright hard from the passing traffic, and Cindy's beauty is fully on display, too. "Eat your heart out, I'm going to screw her in just a couple of minutes. See?" No horn toots this time. Darn.

We briefly shower to wash off the hot tub residue since it is so drying, but we have left the door open to signal that we are available, the "code" we learned on previous visits. As she is toweling off, a light tapping on the door announces the arrival of our Canadian stag. I'm slightly surprised in his wearing a T-shirt and shorts, and not nude. I guess he didn't want to be presumptive, but damn it, it should have been crystal clear from the tub that you were invited to fuck my wife.

I advise that Cindy isn't quite done, but he is welcome to take off his clothes and stand by. Now coming out of the bathroom, I take her hand and lead her to the bed, gently lowering her into position, resting on her back. I stroke her labia, massage her clitoris and finger her pussy to confirm that she is receptive, but instead feel she's still slightly dried-out from the hot tub.

"Hold on, I need to get her ready first," I caution our friend while he strokes to hardness. Applying a little bit of lube to my penis head, I lift her legs and gently massage her clit with my cock and then her inner lips, gently push into her, followed by three or four slow, deep strokes to distribute the lubrication, both artificial and natural by now. His cock bobs up and down in the realization it wasn't necessary to masturbate to an erection, he was going to get plenty of encouragement in that department by the visual of my fucking her first.

"OK, she's ready," as I pull out and motion for him to take my place. Obscured back in the hot tub but now clearly visible, our Canadian's equipment is similar to mine, roughly eight inches long by four or so around, and equally pleasant-appearing, with a firm, rounded ball sack. So I relax, sit back in the one chair in the room, and enjoy watching Cindy again being fucked by a stranger, as he grabs her ankles and pushes his cock into her willing pussy, balls deep.

At best it was ten minutes of an attractive, nice-to-watch fuck before he blew his load in her. He softened quickly, and despite efforts to stay in, his cock sort of fell out of her cunt, followed by a small trickle of semen. Nice confirmation.

"Thank you for a great time!" he blurted once he caught his breath. Rising from the bed he grabbed his shorts and shirt, followed by a promise, "Wait a few, I'm going to phone my girlfriend and get her here for you." A half-hour later we notice the hotel clerk cleaning his room, so it was clear at this point that the promise was a ruse or excuse, or the girlfriend said "NO! Ewww!" since she wasn't there to begin with, this scene apparently just his thing. Whatever, but nonetheless we weren't done yet.

Cindy showers to wash off his spunk, and we go back to the hot tub to cruise for late arrivals. It was just the two older men this time. We chat idly, one of them mentioning that "she put on a great show earlier", a reference to the attempts by her to screw the Canadian fellow in the tub, followed by, "she really must be a nice fuck."

I respond with a grimaced smile. At this point I'm quite concerned by the tone of their chatter, it was becoming less and less friendly. Something was up. Now trying not to engage them directly, I clutch Cindy a little closer, catching the two of them in my peripheral vision mouthing a go-ahead for a previously-discussed strategy to each other: the guy to my right was to pin me down while the other raped my wife. "OUT! NOW!" I exclaim to Cindy, and we climb straight up and out of the tub since they were between us and the steps.

"Awww, whatsa matter? We could have had some fun!" was the response from the pervs. In replaying the scene in my head, the furtive glances I now recall make me suspect a part of the setup was once one was "done" with Cindy, the other was going to rape me, too. Bottom line, the reality was the Scenic was a lawless place and not everybody was there as equals seeking a mutually-satisfying sexual experience.

In our escape we grab the towels, hastily drying off as we trot back to the room, dress enough to drive, gather our belongings, stuffing the key in the office drop on our way to the car.

Rape is certainly not her thing, nor is it mine. Sex is mutual. We didn't completely write off the Scenic Motel after that incident, but we didn't have to. Pocketing a cool half-million for what was a worn-out dump, the owners sold the place to religious do-gooders just a few months after this last encounter and there was never another opportunity; it was razed within a week of the sale.

----------

We do miss the Scenic. We had great times there, and it firmly cemented the playful and totally naughty intimate side of our relationship that is still a key part of our life together after 30 years.