I'd been driving cross country from El Paso to Detroit to visit some friends when I stopped just outside St. Louis for the night. Almost ten hours of freeway driving had exhausted me, including having to make a large detour in Tulsa because of a huge accident that closed the roadway. It was about six in the evening. I drove past the usual strip malls, shopping centers and high-rise office structures that now surround most large cities these days. I made a mental note to check out a Thai restaurant I passed in one strip mall. Two blocks away was the motel where I would spend the night.
Perfect, I thought.
I'm in my early forties, divorced, dating a couple of women casually. I've been told that I'm not bad on the eyes by more than one woman, but a look in the mirror tells me that I'm definitely neither a stud nor a hunk. I'm pleasantly average, a shade under six feet, a small paunch which I try to keep in check by working out faithfully whenever I get the chance (too many beers and chips). I have medium length dark brown hair and green eyes, which surprise some people when they first notice. I'm not into pumping iron but I do lift free weights for tone and strength. I'd say my build is medium, maybe a little broad in the shoulders from the weight-lifting but nobody would mistake me for Arnold.
Once in my motel room, I thought about taking a shower and just crashing for the night. I remembered the Thai restaurant but at the moment
I felt more tired than anything else. I shed my sweater and trousers and plopped on the bed without even turning down the covers and after resting for maybe ten minutes I realized I wasn't going to go to sleep for the night. It was too early and my fatigue was more nerves than physical. It was then that I thought of going to a gym, but what were the chances that there'd be one within a few miles of where I was staying?
I picked up the phone and called the front desk of the motel. I was in luck. There was a fitness center within a mile of the motel. I took one of the bath towels from the bathroom, wrapped my gym shorts, a clean T-shirt and change of socks in it, and headed for the door.
The directions were perfect. Basically I backtracked toward I-40 and I saw that Thai restaurant again. Two blocks later was the strip mall and a huge sign announcing the fitness center. Perfect.
By now it was a little past seven. I noticed the hours posted on the door; they closed at eight. I'd have to hurry.
As fitness centers go, this one was all right. I stay away from "sweat shops" where the studs try to impress each other and the few women who frequent such places. This gym looked clean, airy and was almost deserted. The manager behind the desk was friendly, even gave me a complementary pass since it was so late. I went to the locker room downstairs, quickly changed, and then began my workout.
Soft jazz played on the speakers as I began my workout, doing a few stretches and then spending five minutes on a treadmill. Then I hit the weights. It was a small place, with the usual mirrors that give the appearance of a much larger room. The only other people there were two women at the far end of the room working on some of the Nautilus equipment. They looked to be in their early to mid thirties, kind of cute looking but nothing special.
About ten to eight I hit the treadmill again and noticed that I was the only one in the place. A minute later some of the lights began to dim and then the manager appeared.
"We close in about ten minutes," she said with a friendly smile. She looked to be in her late twenties, light brown hair and a very well-toned body.
I pushed the stop button on the treadmill. "I guess I'd better get going," I said.
"Actually," she said, "you can take your time. I've got some stuff to do upstairs in the office and I'm expecting a repairman around eight-thirty to fix the toilet in the handi-capped bathroom."
"Okay," I replied. "I'll work on the treadmill until eight and then I'll take off."
"Sounds good," she said.
Promptly at eight I got off the treadmill, made my way to the front of the place and then down the stairs to the locker room. At the base of the stairs was a long corridor. Almost immediately to the left were the women's lockers. To get to the men's I kept going straight and then took a right. The corridor was dimly lit. I could still hear the music that was playing on the speakers upstairs. They must have put a speaker downstairs as well.
As I took a step down the corridor I heard someone whisper to someone else and then the sound of water splashing. It was then that I noticed the whirlpool; it was at the end of the corridor, right outside the entrance to the men's locker room.
Once I got closer I could see two women sitting in the pool, the same two women who had been working out when I first got there.
They seemed a bit uncomfortable in my presence. I think they must have forgotten I was upstairs. Anyway, I decided to make some small talk with them.
"Is that water nice?" I asked, kind of directing my question to both of them.
"Yeah," they both replied.
Then it occurred to me that it would feel good to spend a few minutes in the whirlpool myself. It had been almost a week since I'd last worked out and a good soak would prevent muscle cramping and soreness.
"Mind if I join you for a few minutes?" I asked.
I was standing far enough away still that I couldn't see very well because of the dimness of the light but I could hear some giggling.
"I suppose not," one of them said.
"I'll be right back," I said.
I took off my sweaty T-shirt and briefs, put back on my gym shorts, ditched my shoes and socks, grabbed my towel and walked back to the whirlpool. I put a foot onto the first step leading into the water and almost cried out. The temperature had to be almost a hundred and five.
I heard the two women laugh and for the first time got a good look at them. One of them, who eventually introduced herself as Sandy, had light brown hair and was wearing a fairly modest two-piece suit. The other woman, whom I later learned was Marsha, had very dark hair, either brown or just black. And as my eyes continued to take her in I realized that she was in her underwear! That's why the embarrassment and giggling and whispering.
They were sitting side by side on the middle of three ledges that surrounded the water, the whirlpool waves coming up to their waists. Once accustomed to the temperature, I dropped down to the bottom ledge, letting the water reach my chin. God, it felt good. I could feel the tension from all the freeway driving melt away. I could feel my muscles relax as well from the workout I'd given them.
We exchanged names. (By the way, mine's Jeff.)
"I haven't seen you here before I don't think," said Marsha. She also has slid down to the bottom ledge of the whirlpool but not before I'd had a chance to notice her beautiful breasts. Of course the water made her bra almost transparent and I could see the large nipples that capped the two milky cones of flesh. I realized that upstairs both women were wearing loose-fitting sweats.
"Just passing through," I replied. I told them where I lived and where I was heading.
Sandy joined her friend on the bottom ledge as well. I'd gotten a closer look at her breasts as well. They were of a size similar to Marsha's, but her bikini top hid her nipples.
We talked a little about the area and then I felt a foot on my calf. I must have made a face because Sandy suddenly apologized and withdrew her leg.
"That's okay," I said. "I don't mind playing footsy with a nice-looking lady like yourself.
Marsha slapped Sandy on the upper arm, a rather bit too forceful I thought. "Watch it," Marsha said.
That exchange puzzled me but then I felt another foot on my calf and saw a grin on Marsha's face.
By now I was feeling very relaxed, completely used to the water and feeling comfortable being around these two women. Actually, Marsha's foot on my leg was beginning to arouse me a bit, made me realize how long it had been since I'd been with a woman myself.
"You have a nice face," Marsha said. "I could trust a man with a face like yours."
I wasn't quite sure where she was going with that comment but I smiled at the compliment.
"What do you think, Sandy?"
Sandy smiled and looked at me. "Yes," she said.
I was still having trouble figuring out the relationship of these two. Something seemed to be going on. They didn't impress me as lesbians yet they seemed more than just friends.
"What color are his eyes?" Marsha asked Sandy.
"I don't know," Sandy said. "I can't see them that well from here."
Marsha sighed. "Why don't you find out for me?"
Sandy grinned, stood up in the water and walked toward me. Now I was still sprawled on the bottom ledge of the whirlpool, water up to my chin. I felt Sandy's leg brush against my thigh as she got closer to me and I didn't mind it at all when she didn't move her leg. My eyes were at the level of her belly button, the water coming up to the middle of her thighs which I noticed were well formed. Then she bent over, her face less than a foot from mine and gazed into my eyes. She looked much younger than I first thought, late twenties, maybe. And as she bent over her breasts began tugging at her top and I felt my arousal increase by tenfold.
"Well?" Marsha said.
I saw Sandy's grin widen. "I still can't see that good."
There was a sudden splash of water, I felt another leg brush against my own, then noticed a foot wedged between Sandy's legs, pressed right up against her pussy. This was becoming very interesting, I thought.
Sandy turned toward Marsha. "What are you doing?"
"I want to know the color," Marsha said.
I could smell Sandy's breath now as she moved even closer to my face and my eyes couldn't stay away from the beautiful sight of her breasts straining for release from that bikini top. At the same time, I noticed that Marsha's foot remained between her friend's legs and now I detected a slight rocking of Marsha's hips against that foot. Suddenly I felt as if I were in the middle of a fantastic wet dream, my cock straining against the fabric of my gym shorts.
"Well?" Marsha
"I think they're green," Sandy replied, still grinning at me.
I grinned back and moved one of my legs in between Sandy's, pressing it against her upper thigh. Marsha must have felt my movement because she suddenly yelled "Hey!"
"What's wrong?" I said, teasing. "Can't I play too?"
"Of course," Marsha said, but there was an undertone that I couldn't quite figure out.
"Come here," Marsha said to Sandy. Sandy waiting just a second before moving back next to her friend and in that second I couldn't help myself: I gave her a quick peck on the lips, saw her grin turn into a smile.
"You're a bad girl," Marsha said, giving Sandy a hard whack on one buttock.
"You're right," Sandy said. "I am a bad girl." She took a seat on the middle ledge and I watched as she quickly undid her top and retied it, making it looser so more of her breasts showed. I assume that Marsha saw what she was doing.
