In parts 1 & 2, Tasha presents Amy with her birthday present of DJ & Jay. After a short side-track at a local store, they continue on in their weekend adventure...
III. The Hotel
So we fed the man. All of us, actually. Despite DJ’s earlier mouthings about ‘fine cuisine,’ I got my first treat of drive-through-in-a-limo. Jay insisted we all take our orders through the moon roof. While we ate, he entertained us with tales of his more stoned moments. If being given a body cavity search or waking up chained to a wall, naked, was really funny, I don’t know, but when Jay told it, it was. When he got going, you couldn’t shut him up. Still, even though or maybe because his profanity-laced dialogue was all one run-on sentence punctuated by ‘dude!’ more often than was necessary even in surfer-ese, he had us rolling. At times we nearly fell off our seats.
In the hour-and-a-half following, we switched cars, to a rented silver SUV (courtesy of Tasha again) and drove out to her property. It nestled right up against the foothills. There were several acres, between 5 and 20, to a parcel. Jay asked Tasha quite a few practical questions about putting in roads and utilities, having horses, taxes, and the like. She had it down as well as a realtor. DJ looked at me and suggested a walk-around. Alone with him again, I was much more at ease. We walked up the fence-line slowly, trading bits of personal information. He told more about his experiences with chemo and surgery, going as far as to say that at one time he’d wished for death but now was glad it hadn’t found him.
After Jay had seen all he’d cared to, and had lay down in the middle of a patch of marsh grass for good measure, we climbed back into the SUV and took off. I tried to remember the sequence of turns we’d taken to get there. It was a nice area, fairly isolated. Maybe someday I’d save up enough for my own place, too. Soon we were on the main road back to town. Half-way there, Tasha made an unexpected left under a stone arch-way I’d noticed before but had taken as someone’s private ranch entrance. No one else seemed to be in the dark about where we were going so I kept the questions to myself for once. About 2 miles in, we drove along a long slow arch to the left and went in an S-turn up into the first step of the foothills. As the trees opened up, we spotted a large manor-house, or what looked like a German fief.
It really was quite amazing. I hadn’t seen anything even remotely like it west of the Peekskills. Though on a larger scale, Riverdale copied a Bavarian inn. Three stories high with a row of dormer windows over that, still the natural trees hid it till one got within a couple hundred yards. Then, the only word for it was magnificent. The driveway inclined slightly up to its recessed front doors. There was a roofed area for loading and unloading whose pillars were made entirely of rock. From the angle we approached the place, it had looked square, with about twenty windows to a side. The sun was just going down on the windless evening, and it reflected off the amber tinted windows all along the west side. “The boys,” as I’d started thinking of them, unfolded their lanky frames out of the car and Tasha and I followed suit.
As soon as we entered the dark-paneled, plushly carpeted lobby, I realized it was actually built in an “L” formation. We approached the front desk where a somewhat effeminate young man and a small curvy woman, both in black business suits, stared us down. I came out of my daze enough to wonder, and then grasp, what the four of us must look like. As in, two players with their “escorts.” Never mind that one was obviously stoned and one looked like he was about fifteen. People would still know who they were. Tasha and I were nobody. I tried to quit gawking like a peasant at the elegant furnishings. When Tasha stepped up and handed over her credit card, I felt a little better. Maybe she and I could be the big shots and they were our escorts.
We were shown down a hallway, at the end of which was a shiny little elevator, and to our rooms two floors up. Or rather, to our deluxe suite. One of two, I later learned. Ours was in the southwest corner. As soon as the concierge left, tip in hand, Tasha and I scampered about examining every inch of our temporary home. There were two bedrooms across from each other, each with a large dormer window and a king sized bed beneath it. They had identically equipped master baths. Either’s spa tubs could have held all four of us; I was already getting ideas. The living room area was sunken two steps and featured two huge leather couches, a corner-set gas fireplace, a computer desk in the other corner and an electronic horn of plenty. There was also a small kitchen and bar area tucked in close to the front doors, and a small bath room back to back with a walk in closet across from that. Everything was in tasteful shades of gray, black, and off-white. The more we snooped into cupboard and cabinets, the more we saw that the place was loaded for bear. There were expensive brands of shampoo, conditioners, skin care products, lotions, and to our delight, interesting lubricants and gels in the bedside tables. We couldn’t have made a meal, but there were plenty of munchies in the kitchen. The bar was well-stocked and the half-sized fridge contained a variety of mixers, and some meat-and-cheese plates and fruit. Through it all, DJ stood to the side with his arms crossed, and an amused, knowing smile on his lips.
“First time in the lap of luxury?” he asked me. I wasn’t sure if that was just a question or if he was suggesting I was born in the barn.
“Uh…not really….” I stammered, trying not to let my hackles rise without knowing what he was really asking. “First time in a long time, though.” On my honeymoon almost ten years ago I’d been in a couple decent hotels. Nothing near as fine as this, though. Certainly not with a hot tub in the room, much less two.
“I grew up pretty normal,” DJ continued. “Three, four years ago I’d never seen anything like this, either. Watching you, I’m remembering that.”
“So, you weren’t somehow calling me a hick, were you?” I cross-examined.
“Oh, no way. I’m a way bigger hick that you! Growing up where I did, I’m surprised I never dated my sister,” he snorted, trying to catch a drop of spit that flew out of his mouth. “See? I’m not exactly mister suave.”
After that I felt a little better; less on my guard. This one at least was still semi-human. I had to wonder about Jay. He was obviously distracted, and very much out if his natural surroundings. DJ, in the next instant, set up shop as bartender and poured Tasha a rum and coke. Jay wandered over long enough to grab a “bee-ah” from him and retreated to the other side of the room. I asked DJ for a screwdriver, which he poured with a wicked glint in his eye. Tasha snickered. He dug around under the cupboard for a bit, coming up with a bottle of Southern Comfort.
“Eugh!! How can you drink that swill?” Tasha asked. I was of the same opinion on the subject.
“Oh, you know,” said DJ, measuring out a shot. “Every good Southern boy likes this shit!” He held his shot glass up. “Cheers!” Tasha and I linked arms, echoed him, and bolted our drinks.
“Fill ‘er up!” Tasha commanded as she slammed down her glass.
“Now or later?” countered DJ, leaning over and looking her straight in the eyes.
For once, she didn’t have a quick come-back. But she found her way around that adeptly enough. Each of Tasha’s hands found a mark--one on DJ's shoulder, one on his nape. They drew together as though by gravitational pull. Disregarding the bar between them, they kissed, in a way that looked like lips fondling lips. I was reduced to standing there staring, wave after wave of conflicting emotions rushing over me.
The scene was hot, and it made me hot just to watch, especially when Tasha literally climbed over the bar, sat on it, and pulled DJ between her legs. She grabbed his slender wrists and clapped his hands over her large round breasts, still licking his lips and playing tongue-twister with him. Unable to rip my eyes away, I was rooted to the spot and the view, a rising pang of jealousy competing with the sudden cramping wetness between my legs. After our little encounter in the dressing room, I’d marked DJ as “mine.” After all, that was how the game was normally played. In the same vein I’d automatically paired Tasha with Jay, sweeping the “oh well, you can’t have everything” feeling under the proverbial rug. At the moment, it sure seemed like whatever DJ was doing to Tasha was extremely pleasurable; she moaned and tilted her head back. Her new liaison licked and sucked his way down her neck while his long blunt fingers opened her shirt and stroked her round plump tits and twiddled her nipples. My whole lower body was pulsing and I shifted from foot to foot, in a way, grinding my hips. Even though I was hurt that DJ didn’t want to be with me exclusively, their little show was too good to stop watching. Besides, I wanted to join the action, but was hesitant to get in the middle of another couple.
Someone grabbed my ass. Completely startled, I whipped around. Naturally it was Jay, with a smirk curving his mouth. It was the closest I’d been to him so far and I found myself taken in (and turned on) by his remarkable male beauty.
“Now that’s hot,” he remarked in his raspy voice. Then he looked down at me.
“Well, birthday girl, you gonna watch? I don’t think they mind.” He took me by the shoulders and spun me 180º. Tasha had lost her shirt entirely, and now both DJ’s hands and his mouth were moving restlessly all over her twin peaks. Her mauve-colored areolas puckered up tight, the darker tips stood out hard like the end of my thumb. She was busy with DJ’s belt buckle. Jay got right up against me and I gratefully leaned back into him. He was much more substantial than DJ, filled out, both with muscle, and with an overlying layer of flesh. I squirmed against him, trying to be comfortable while still standing up.
“Ssh! Just watch the show,” Jay whispered.
Show? What show? Glancing up toward the kitchen, I saw the obvious. Tasha and DJ were now half-naked. She was belly down over the counter with DJ’s cock in her mouth. He stood there like a surprised lizard with his eyelids opening and closing slowly, not moving more than an inch or two of his own accord. On her own part, Tasha’s head was bobbing busily, her painted lips clamped down tight around his shaft. It was not as skinny as the rest of him. She had grabbed him by one hip to get him where she wanted him. Her other hand, which I knew to be very strong, jingled his balls till DJ stood up on his toes. He sank his fingers into the fluff of her light brown hair and shoved his member deep into her throat. His shirt was unbuttoned down the front, the soft blue folds framing Tasha’s cheeks as she strove to take it all. Above, every taut muscle and bone of DJ’s chest and abs stood out on sharp relief. He was really a bony little shit. I had no idea why he turned me on so much but he did. Watching Tasha suck him off, and watching the sexual animal rear up and dance across his pointy face was delicious. Having Jay behind me, pressing his ever-growing lump against my back made me forget to be possessive. As long as I kept our “performers” delineated as people I didn’t know, everything was fine.
There was a change of pace from the kitchen. Tasha must have found her groove because DJ started moaning like I’ve never heard a man do. At first it was just, “oh, oooooh” and then…
