”“Yeah, me too,” he said.It was Saturday Morning, and James and I made the pick up at the little airstrip just outside of town. We’d taken the Ellison’s SUV; well it accommodated more bodies. Pete had flown the trio down, but he, Pete, had been picked up by a local friend of his and the word was that he’d be staying over at the friend’s place for the weekend.“Good to see you, Ron, Stacey. You too Jane,” I said. I was smiling and so were they.The ride to the Phoenix Carters place in Douglas was pleasant and short, ten minutes actually. Ron rode up front with James. I was trapped between the two females in the back; I was betting that that was by design. Well, at least they smelled better than the two guys up front; there’s an upside to everything.I had been to the Carter duplex once before. It was on their last foray into my bailiwick. But they’d done stuff to it, or had it done, since then; it looked real good. Still, small it was, but very nice: a regular getaway cottage for two rich. The hands swept upwards time and time again even slipping slightly into the legs of the paper pants. My balls lay there inside them, my cock was reared fiercely right up my stomach, it must be obvious. The hands, though, did not touch my balls, but they went very close. And of course each time they did, my wandering mind wondered whether they would. Was I wondering or hoping? Surely the spa in the five star hotel didn’t offer more than the massage, even here in Egypt! The towels were replaced on my legs. The ones on my chest were rolled down. My shoulders, neck, head and upper chest were oiled and treated. I relaxed a little. No obvious advance had been made, nothing overtly suggestive had taken place, no request or invitation for anything other than the aromatic massage promised in the hotel brochure had been extended. I softened, a little. A warm towel was laid across my upper chest, it felt nice. The one across my lower chest and waist was removed. ‘Oh fuck’ I thought I’m going to.
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