Mud 3

The Baths

The man walked up the trail, feet moving in long strides, his boots raising tiny puffs of dust at each step. His chest was streaked with rivulets of sweat that formed in tiny pearls under the sparse hair of his broad chest and then ran in occasional trickles down to the waistband of his shorts where it soaked into the cloth forming a dark delta.

On his muscular back the drops of perspiration between his shoulder blades slowly ran down his tanned skin to the other soaking patch on his denim shorts.

The two patches spread around the waistband and nearly joined on either side.

The slope steepened, his stride remained the same and his chest rose and fell easily as his breath-rate increased; Keith was physically fit, used to walking long distances in mountains.

He'd been here in the

Rincon de la vieja

national park for nearly 3 weeks and this was only his second visit to the baths.

He looked forward to it; the heat of the day had been crushing, the dust on his skin was a gritty paste where it had mixed with his sweat.

What he called the baths were in fact two things: a shallow depression in which a volcanic vent had over uncounted years, churned and cooked the blue-grey clay into a thick, smooth cream. It was easily twenty yards across. It cut into the slope of the mountain, so that only one side was easily accessible. The side against the mountain bubbled with escaping steam and the other was almost at air temperature where the mud slowly overflowed the edge of the basin to ooze downhill where it set in ridged terraces. To one side of the depression was a series of flat basalt slabs, tumbled in a forgotten age, which formed giant steps leading up one side of the mud bath

The tropical forest crowded close around the pit except on the south side where the sun flooded in. Near to the entrance of the mud pit was a curious stream - two in fact; one cool clear one and the other a steaming torrent of boiling water that flowed from the depths of the volcano.

The curiosity was that the two streams, so different in nature, met and joined just above the mud pit to become one. Downstream from their confluence, it was possible to choose the temperature of bathing water as the hot and cold mixed together to gradually become tepid.

The man ran the last few dozen yards, sprinting up the steepest part of the trail to arrive at the baths, panting and perspiring.

He stripped hurriedly, left his clothes on the first flat slab of basalt and naked, walked slowly into the mud midway between the boiling and the cool areas. He sighed in pleasure as the warm cream enfolded him as he stepped into the deeper mud. He stopped when the hot semi-liquid reached the bottom of his throat and just as he stopped, he heard a soft, muffled giggle.

The two women lay sprawled languorously on a flat rock, luxuriating in the sun's rays as they filtered through a gap in the crowns of trees. They were a contrasting pair; One tall and blonde, the other shorter, with the dark hair of a

Latina

.

Bikinis tops and shorts lay, haphazardly where they'd landed, thrown by hurried, feverish hands. The women lay head to toe, a slight space between them as the sweat of lovemaking cooled.

The blonde one had blue-grey eyes and a wide sensuous mouth. Her body looked fit, her breasts were full but firm, her nipples dark pink where a mouth had suckled and playfully nibbled, her hips flared nicely and her loins were raised from the rock by the swell of her tight rear. The slightest breath of wind ruffled her fine shoulder-length hair as she lay with her face turned to face her companion.

Her friend, the dark-haired woman, was shorter. Her hair was longer, a dark brown that shone in the sunlight. She had wider hips and a bigger rump, accentuated as she lay on her side with one knee drawn up. Her breasts were a little smaller perhaps, the nipples darker. They'd looked darker still against the creamy white of the blonde's skin. Her soft brown eyes smiled at the blonde as they talked.

They talked about their trip, where they would go. They discussed their camp site hidden in the forest a little way off and how the electric-blue butterflies flickered in endless chases through the foliage, lending an aura of paradise to this place. They talked about their friendship, since way back in school and how they'd decided to holiday together and how close they felt. "Very, very close" Tania laughed as her fingers reached out and caressed Catherine's soft slickness.

Before Catherine could reply, they both raised their heads at the sound of running feet, and saw a tall, tanned man stop at the edge of the mud bath, throw down his shirt and strip off his shorts. He waded into the mud without pause. His dark hair flecked with silver glinted in the sun. They watched, fascinated as the man walked into the mud, their eyes taking in his muscled back then drifting in unison down to his cheeks just as they disappeared beneath the liquid clay.

Tania nudged Catherine and whispered "Oooooooooooohhhhhh!" into her ear. Catherine giggled; she'd been thinking exactly that.

The man's head whipped 'round, eyes widening momentarily in surprise, before narrowing and fixing upon the source of the sound. His eyes were blue, piercingly sharp hunter's eyes. He was surprised to see anyone here. The tourists usually kept to within a half-hours gentle stroll from their cars or where the

collectivo

taxi dropped them off.

He looked at the two heads raised to look at him, their bodies hidden by the angle of sight to their position above him. He thought they blushed but wasn't sure.

He turned back, thinking as he did that they'd see him when he came out of the mud bath. He shrugged inwardly; he would be covered in mud and anyway he didn't care what they saw.

It was Catherine who suggested it. Catherine of course; she'd always been first to giggle like she had just then, always been first to have ideas of mischief. Tania could see her half smile playing on her lips as they writhed on the flat rock, keeping low as they put on their bikini tops and shorts. "What are you up to?" she asked, knowing Catherine had something in mind. "Let's steal his clothes" Catherine giggled. "We can't do that for Christ's sake!" Tania said, but her own giggle erupted through her grin and gave away her delight in the idea.

A few minutes later they climbed down the giant steps of rock, going down backwards over the steep places. Tania found herself blushing. She could feel eyes following their progress. She glanced up to see Catherine's arse a few inches in front of her face, the shorts drawn taut over her curves, a crescent of her cheeks showing where the hem of the shorts rode up. Tania knew her own shorts were doing the same and that he was watching them. She felt her face flush more as she realised she wanted him to look.

The man watched them climbing down. His eyes took in the view of two very feminine rears presented to him as they descended. He hadn't had a woman in...how long was it? He felt the stirring deep within as his cock reared, hidden thankfully beneath the mud. He saw the smoothness of their thighs and their rounded calf muscles as they came down the basalt.

They reached the bottom of the steps, turned, and to his disbelief, picked up his towel and clothes and raced off towards the trail, his angry shout ignored as they ran, laughing.

Keith surged up out the mud, his face dark with anger as he raced after them. Mud flew from his pumping thighs and whipped from his wildly swinging cock as he chased them. He left the trail and ran down the stream, slipping on the clay stream-bed, his speed keeping him on his feet until after a hundred yard dash he burst out of the trees just as the women ran past.

He pounced the last few feet and caught the blonde by the hair. His other hand took her wrist and twisted it up between her shoulder-blades until she was on tiptoe trying to avoid the pain. She cried out in fear as he marched her back towards the baths.

Keith was seething; the other had got away with his clothes. He decided she'd be back to look for her friend

"I'll tan your arse for this!" he growled at her. He frog marched the woman the last few steps to edge of the basin and stopped. He forced Tania to her knees, then sat on the flat rock and started to pull her over his knees. "No!" Tania cried "You'll get mud all over my clothes."

"True" he conceded "and as I don't have clothes, I don't see why you should have." His fingers slipped to her shorts and fumbled with the button. Tania struggled hard until his powerful hand suddenly swung hard and landed on her buttocks with a loud, stinging crack.

Tania gasped with the shock and suddenness of the slap. She froze for barely a second, but before she moved, her shorts were falling around her ankles and his fingers were sliding her panties down past her knees.

She felt the glow from the slap on her rump, felt it spreading through her. Tania felt, too her innate submissiveness preventing any action on her part; she stood there passively, blushing as he ripped her bikini top from her.

Tania didn't blush from her nakedness. She liked it. She liked to show her body and there was something about showing her body to this man that made her warm. No, Tania was blushing because as soon as she felt herself submitting, the glow from the smack had somehow spread between her thighs and caused a sliding, open feeling that weakened her knees, making her want his violence.

When he pressed her down again, she slid across his thighs in silence, aware that her breast was flicked by his cock as she slid across it. She was aware that he too had felt a rush at the same time she did; she felt somehow proud that she had this power over his cock and felt the stirring in her grow more pronounced.

Keith raised his hand high above his head. The palm was large and hard-skinned from work. He brought it down hard, the slap echoing loud against the walls of the basin, the echo cut off by her cry of pain. Her pelvis bucked forwards against his thigh even as he raised his hand again. He slapped her again and even as he slapped her he felt his sex rear up and press hard against her soft belly. When the second blow landed he moaned as she thrust against his swollen cock.

Tania cried out again and again as he spanked her. The first smacks had been hard, hurting, but now the glow was spreading through her as her mind fixed on the hard thing she could feel nudging against her navel. His hand rose and fell in a fast rhythm, the reaction of each slap making her thrust lewdly against him; she saw herself in her minds eye and felt her cunt flooding at the vision.

Keith began to moan almost inaudibly with each slap, with each almost lascivious thrust of her pelvis; true the first blows had been in anger, but now he was terribly aware of the quivering round female cheeks trembling beneath his palm. He could see her skin reddened from the spanking, streaked with mud from his hand. He knew his slaps were taking on a different tone from the first furious blows. He wondered if he imagined the musky fragrance that made his nostrils flare.

He stopped, breathing hard and heard her panting too. In wonder, he realised that she continued to grind against his cock. His hand traced a muddy line down her buttocks and he slipped his fingers into her sopping slit, causing her to moan harder and thrust back at his intruding fingers. Keith leaned sideways and whispered to her: "You need more than a good spanking don't you?" and as he spoke he saw the other woman standing at the trail head watching.

The dark-haired woman stood quite still, unaware that he had seen her. She held his clothes in one hand and her other was pressed to the side of her bikini-clad breast as the long fingernail of her little finger scratched tiny circles on her obviously erect nipple. Her lips were parted as she watched the scene in front of her.

Keith could tell she'd been there for a while, unnoticed by them until then.

He stood suddenly, half-carrying Tania to the mud pool. He sat her brusquely in the soft mud at the edge, hearing her sigh as the mud cooled her flaming cheeks - or perhaps as the mud squeezed into her burning slit. He strode towards Catherine, hurrying before she reacted, but she seemed transfixed, her tongue licking her lips as her gaze fixed on his swinging erection.

"No!" she hissed, but too late; he was upon her and he caught and held the woman. He made her drop his clothes right there and then he used the same technique as he had on Tania: he slapped her very hard and suddenly on her rear. Within a few seconds he had her naked. He paused only to pick up his belt, and then he dragged her towards the pool. Keith pulled her to a place where he could see the blonde as he punished her and then he forced her to her knees in the mud.

Keith felt his anger flare again. This was the one that had his clothes! He pushed her face and shoulders down to the mud, hearing her yelp as her nipples dipped in one of the hotter parts of the basin. "Lift your arse high wench!" he ordered, then stood upright and raised his hand with his woven nylon belt held firmly by the buckle.

His senses seemed heightened. He seemed aware of so many things at once; the beautiful arse offered to him, the squirming of the woman as her nipples stung in the hot mud. He was aware of his sex, tumescent and angry-looking, rearing and swaying heavily as if he was going to whip her with his sex. He was aware too that Tania was sitting watching with parted lips, a thumb and index squeezing her turgid left nipple and her right hand with its fingers buried between her thighs. He turned back to his target and swung the belt with all his strength.

Somewhere in the swing of his arm, his anger died. His eyes caressed the swell of her rump, delved their gaze into the divide between her cheeks and explored the dusky shadows under her lower belly. The belt flew from him as his fingers opened and a split-second later the sharp smack drew a cry from the woman as his flat palm hit her buttock.

Catherine slid forwards under the force of the slap. Her pelvis jerked forwards as she cried out and then pushed back and up to meet the next blow. Keith smacked again, striking her other cheek; she didn't cry out, she sighed. He glanced down and caught the gleam of white teeth through parted lips.

Keith spanked her; he sank to his knees in the mud and his arms rose and fell incessantly. He watched in fascination as she huddled her shoulders down deep into the mud, her faced turned sideways towards him. As she flattened her upper body into the ooze, he saw her breast flattened under her weight against the thick clay; his mind took in the way she pushed her ass back and up, offering herself, inviting more. He became aware that his cock, swaying with each twisting swing of his torso, was painting a line of shiny precum across her thigh.

Keith heard her sighs turn to whimpers. He heard her whimpers become cries of a different kind. He could see her mouth open, gasping for breath as his hand imparted its own rhythm to her breathing. Keith slowly realised that his arm was tired, the muscles crying out for pause. He blinked and panted for breath after the frenzied spanking, seeing her red buttocks almost glowing. He looked at her and saw her pouting sex, at first a tight puffy-lipped slit had swollen, split and opened like a ripe fruit to reveal her fuschia pink and purple inner lips. They gleamed, coated in her flow of lubricant.

He reached out his hand across her trembling thighs and slowly wiped his finger-tip upwards through her cleft. She cried out: a deeper, throatier cry of need and her muddy hands flew back to pull her own cheeks apart, her groans of want ringing in his mind.

The finger dipped into his mouth as he tasted her. He moaned at the savour of her need. Keith moved behind her, his head dipping low, his tongue strained as he pressed his face into her and reared back his head slowly, making his tongue plough through her wet furrow and on up, along her spread-wide crack.

Catherine gave a low guttural growl of need, almost of despair at her nearness to the final edge. Keith licked his lips, still tasting the saltiness of her dark little star as he turned his head to look at Tania: She sat where he had left her in the shallow mud; her feet were spread as wide as they could be, her breasts and nipples streaked with the blue-grey clay where her fingers had touched and pinched her ripe nipples. Her pelvis rocked spasmodically back and forth as if she was fucking the mud. She was; her hands were dragging the creamy silt, pulling it hard against her thrusting mound, squeezing it under her to squelch in her slit as she rocked her body.

Keith saw her eyes, soft and unfocussed as her hands dug more mud and held it against the robotic thrusting of her cunt. He stood and ran to her. "Stop it." He said. She continued unheeding, lost in the final timeless drift to the cascade of orgasm. His hand flicked out and he slapped her face. It wasn't hard, but it was sudden and her eyes took focus on him. "Stop" he said again "you mustn't, not yet." Tania looked at him gravely, still only just aware. Her lips parted and she whimpered a tiny sound of despairing. They parted again and he heard what could have been "Essss-Uh!" He knew, somehow that it was "Yes Sir".

"Come over to your friend, Tania, she needs you." He led the woman over to Catherine who knelt, still crouched, trembling. Her hands had fallen from her buttocks and were under the mud, kneading her nipples amidst shuddering moans of want.

"Make her cum Tania" he said gently. "Use your mouth and make her cum."

Tania fell to her knees behind Catherine. Her hands slid up through the mud and glided dark trails up Catherine's thighs until her dripping thumbs eased between the woman's thighs. Tania bowed her head and her mouth closed over the swollen and dripping sex.

Catherine came: There was no building to a climax, no gentle climb to the final pinnacle; she came immediately when Tania's lips closed on her cleft. Her body bucked back against Tania's face and she screamed out her orgasm in a long howling cry.

Tania moaned at the cry, it heightened her own need. The heady scent of Catherine's wetness filled her senses as her tongue lapped hungrily, her lust making her tongue flick almost angrily. She felt his breath hot against her ear.

"You wanted more didn't you, you slut?" She lapped harder. "You needed more than just my hand? Didn't you slut? Tell me - say it!"

"Yesssssssuurrrrr pleassseeeeeesssssuuurrrrryes yes Yes Sir" It was a scream into Catherine's labia.

Keith stood, walked to the edge of the forest and ripped out a piece of liana. He strode back and slid his bare foot under Tania's cunt. He lifted her, his foot felt seared by her heat, marked by her flow of juices mixed in a cocktail of blue mud. Tania lifted her arse, easing her knees apart, her neck arched back as she sucked Catherine.

Tania's moans of aching want erupted into a scream as the liana whipped across her defenceless cheeks. Mud splattered as the hard woody fibre slashed across her flesh. She screamed again at each stroke. Her screams vibrated in Catherine's pussy and Catherine screamed too as she came again.

He whipped her hard, knew she wanted it hard and knew the whipping was going to drive her to an insanity of sexual desire. He seared the liana across her cheeks again and again until his arm ached with the effort and until Tania dropped her head, her role of licking Catherine forgotten: She had but one thought - not even a thought, but an instinct; she dropped her shoulders to mimic Catherine's lewd position, lifting her rump impossibly high, curving her lower back until her cunt protruded past the join of thigh and buttock.