That's where we go next, and it is a unique thrill, to play in the mud together, smearing each other with the smooth red clay, laughing at the Pygmy-effect it has on us. We can't resist painting Indian war-paint marks on our cheeks and under our eyes, but we pay special attention to the areas on our backs that we can't reach, and the backs of our legs, sliding fingers under each other's suits surreptitiously. This is not the first time the Glen Ivy mud area has been used as foreplay, and it won't be the last. When we are fairly covered in mud, we select two lounge chairs to lay back on and allow the sun to dry us. While we wait, we talk in quiet tones, idle chit chat about our week, plans we have, and stories we've been reading. Soon we notice that the mud is dry and caked, and when we smile or talk huge wrinkles appeared where it cracks. "Ugh! THIS will feel great, now!" I promise, leading you to the showers. The showers are recessed in surrounding walls that look like rock. A couple of the recesses are big rooms with 5-6 shower heads, but a few are singles or doubles. We find a single available and take turns under the heavy spray, assisting one another with sloughing the mud off. There are soap dispensers at every shower, and a long handled natural bristle brush for exfoliating.
"Sunscreen will be really important after this," I say, "because the top layer of skin has been removed."
We take our time to be sure that every trace of red clay has been washed away. Your fingers slide in and up and around my bathing suit, brushing against my more tender areas in a tantalizing and teasing way. I find mud behind your ears and in your eye brows and carefully smooth and wipe it all away. No matter how careful we are, we are sure to find more red mud later on, but we do the best we can, enjoying fondly each other under the water spray... Perfectly acceptable practice since everyone else is doing it too, to one extent or another.
"This is the reason to always come with a friend," I mention. "It is really hard to get all the mud on and off properly."
"Oh, I plan to 'get you off properly'," you murmur in my ear, and the butterflies in my belly take flight again.
Finally done with the shower, we grab two fresh towels and dry off as much as possible. I reach for my pool bag and bring out sunscreen SPF 45, and proceed to slather it all over your back and chest and arms, not forgetting your neck and ears. I squirt a small amount in your hand and tell you. "Face." And then begin applying to myself, the areas I can reach. You assist with my back and legs, your touch burning a trail of fire and desire all up and down my legs and my spine. I'm trembling with excitement, but I know anticipation and patience bring awesome rewards.
I take your hand and lead you out of "Club Mud" and up the path, through the beautiful foliage and flowering birds of paradise to the upper level of the resort. There's a waterfall and palm trees in this canyon, and it feels a million miles away from the L.A. basin with the freeway tangle ups and crime and noise. This is a paradise, quiet and soothing, as if we are on an island in the Caribbean. There is a large shallow pool on this level, and dozens of blue plastic float mattresses hang on a rack nearby. We grab two and step into the water, stretching out on our bellies and floating head to head. The pool is shallow enough that we can anchor ourselves with just one foot hanging off the mattress, or touching the bottom of the pool with our hands. We continue to chat quietly together, flattering one another and flirting, nuances and double entendres flowing like the gushing waterfall. It's a good thing we are face down because your erection has been teased all morning so far, and lying face down in a cool pool makes it easier to hide your excitement. As we get warm we slip off into the water and slide back up onto the mattresses, flipping over to our backs. We hold hands and link our feet to keep from drifting apart and we nap a little in the refreshing breeze, listening only to the birdsong and waterfall.
Suddenly conscious of rumbling stomachs, we check the time. It is noon.
"You have to come with me to the Grotto... It is delightful and we'll get apples and tea down there," I say.
"I'm hungrier than that..." you protest, but I cut you off with a kiss.
"Trust me... You'll love it, and the apple will help. After the Grotto we'll get a good lunch."
We stand up and splash carefully out of the pool and hang up our mattresses. Grabbing two fresh towels (I love that they are stacked practically EVERYWHERE here), we wrap up and head toward the locker rooms. Before we get to the doors, I point you off toward the left and we enter a small room to check in, then take an elevator down to the lower levels, feeling ever more like we are in a cave in the middle of the earth. All the walls are made of faux rock, and the effect is cooling and mysterious. The recessed lighting creates dim shadows which give an illusion of privacy.
Here at a counter we turn over all our extra possessions, my glasses, your flip flops, and drop off the used towels. We go forth with nothing but our swimsuits. Being completely blind without my glasses, this is very disorienting for me, but I have you to guide me. "I keep forgetting that I need to wear contacts at Glen Ivy," I say, holding your hand and standing as close next to and behind you as I can, clutching your arm.
"What happens here?" you ask, but there's no time to explain.
"You'll see... It's great."
We are guided to a small recess in the rock wall and told to face the wall with our hands on the wall overhead and our legs spread. (Think of the position you would be in for a police search.)
Two team members use a soft house painter's brush to apply a thick creamy layer of warm mousse-y "green mud" to our legs, back and arms. It is the most erotic feeling, being brushed up with this warm cream. They give instructions to massage it in (it will never absorb or dry) and not to apply it to our faces, but to watch the clock and rinse in about 15 minutes. We are directed through a narrow tunnel to an interior room, dimly lit, with rock benches lining the walls. In the center is a table with a huge glass cooler of iced water with fruit floating inside. Today it is green apple slices, but I have seen strawberries and even cantaloupe before. It infuses the water with the slightest flavor. We pour ourselves plastic cups of water and sit along the sides, barely able to see one another or the other patrons in the dim light. You sit right next to me, closely, and whisper, "How sexy is this? No one can see me do...this." And you slide your hand up my mud covered thigh and slip easily under my swimsuit, finding my snatch immediately. I gasp and move closer, opening my legs a little for you.
"I told you you'd like it," I murmur in your ear, purring as you plunder my pussy, slowly at first and then inserting two fingers to feel my hot wet hole. Your other hand caresses my shoulders, massaging in the green mud as we were told to do. I place one knee sideways on the bench, turning more towards you and stroke your chest and belly, likewise massaging in the nutrient rich mud. My back is to the room, for all anyone looking would see, we are just two lovers engrossed in conversation. This day's foreplay has gone on long enough, but our opportunity for completion isn't here yet. "Keep your eye on the clock, Dan, because I'm getting really hungry..." With that remark I reach down into your board shorts and smoothly stroke your turgid length, the creamy green mud acting as the perfect lubricant. I stroke you and feel your cock twitch in my hand. "Really. Very. Hungry."
You glance up and see that almost 15 minutes has indeed passed, so I extricate my hand from your shorts and your hand from my pussy, and we stand to enter the next room, the shower area. Since the green mud tends to get everywhere, they've installed curtains over the showers so people can remove swimsuits in order to thoroughly rinse both body and suit before redressing and exiting the shower. We find one that will accommodate us both and we enter, closing the curtain behind us. There are people here too, but not very many, and with the piped in music (soft African jungly music) and echoing walls of the cave interior, plus the sounds of water pouring, no one can hear anything. The lighting in the main room is a bit brighter but here in the shower with the curtain closed we are still enshrouded in shadows.
You draw me into your arms and we share a long deep kiss, full of desire and promise. The mud still slips between our chests and legs as the smoothest lubricant. It is a clean, fresh smelling "mud," very moisturizing, but very thick, so it takes a lot of stroking and rubbing under the shower water to remove it. You pull my swimsuit down until it bunches up at my waist, revealing my soft B-cup breasts and take my nipples between your fingers, tweaking and rolling them gently. I moan and kiss you harder, our tongues entwined as we plunder, desperately needing more more more...
We stroke, touch and fondle one another, cleansing ourselves of the mud. Here too there are dispensers with herb-y smelling cleanser, and we start to really smell like we've been to a spa. The scents are wonderfully aromatic without being overpowering, and they are therapeutically chosen for the relaxation they inspire. However relaxed we feel emotionally and mentally, physically we are both as tightly wound as springs, and we both know there will be only one remedy-abandoning ourselves to our lusts and engaging fully in the passion that has percolated beneath the surface ever since you appeared at the Vista pool almost three hours prior. As the water cascades over my hair, neck, shoulders and breasts, you follow with your mouth, licking and nibbling each area as it is cleansed of the green mousse. My hands loosen the string that holds your shorts up and I slide my hands around to grasp your ass cheeks, squeezing them tightly. Then they wander around to the front and stroke your manhood, hard and smooth. Your shorts slip further and fall down to your feet, where you step out of them.
I slip down to my knees, taking your cock in my mouth as the water continues to cascade down my hair and chest and back. My hands slide along your legs, cleaning them of the mud as I massage your thighs and calves while taking your cock balls-deep in my mouth. You taste so good, filling my mouth and pressing against the back of my throat. I relax and push harder and the head of your cock slips deeper, blocking my airway. I hold you here for a long moment, working my tongue and lips at the base of your cock. When I absolutely need air I pull off with a soft 'pop' and look up at you. Your face has a look of such extreme astonishment, and tender affection for me, it makes me blush. I swallow your cock again, this time maintaining eye contact as I stroke in and out along your rigid prick. I hold your ass hard with my hands, hopefully conveying to you that today is long from being over and I want you to go ahead and cum for me, blast me with your seed, and finally have the release you've been missing for so long.
Apparently the message was conveyed, since you grasp my head with your hands holding me tightly to you, and throwing your head back and groaning with a shudder and a shake you explode in my mouth.
