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DISCLAIMER: The following story contains scenes of nudity and sexual congress involving such themes as femdom, mind control, and incest. If these are not to your particular tastes, I suggest you look elsewhere. Comments and criticism are always welcome, but any of either that suggests you ignored this disclaimer will be likewise ignored.
Jasmine laid out on the chaise longue, feeling the sun beating down on the deep bronze of her skin. There was a full suite of tanning beds inside the spa, but the rare break in the Pacific Northwest cloud cover meant that she had to take full advantage of it while she could. Thick, raven mane fanned out behind her head in like shimmering black silk, she adjusted her oversized tortoiseshell sunglasses, and closed her eyes.
The curvaceous MILF could feel the sweat beginning to bead on her skin as she raised her arms above her head and stretched, back arching off the chaise. Her breasts swelled and pressed tightly against the bright melon halter-top of her bikini in a tide of smooth flesh as she did, pinky-thick nipples still slightly swollen from this morning’s activities. A drop of moisture rolled through the cavernous cleavage created by the bikini and under the band, sliding down across her sternum and over the soft, smooth plateau of her stomach to the well of her navel, adorned with a tiny blue jewel set in a silver ring.
Wiggling her behind down into the stretchy fabric of the chaise, she let one hand wander down across the slight mound below her navel, fingernails tickling along deep brown skin until they skimmed across the top of her bikini bottoms. The blue rhinestones set in her manicure winkled in the sunlight for a moment, then vanished inside the taut lycra. Her ripe thighs drifted apart as her fingertips slid in between the plush pillows of her vulva, pubic hair crinkling under her palm while her index finger gently slid up and down her weeping slit.
“Can I get you anything?” A tall shadow loomed overhead.
Jasmine opened one eye and let her gaze wander up his hairless stomach, and across smooth, caramel-colored abs to a set of firm pectoral muscles. The speaker stood at attention, arms at his sides, while he awaited a response. Her eyes wandered back down to his tightly-packed black speedos, and she let her index finger lazily circle her clitoris as it began to swell up. Jasmine bit her lip as she watched a thick black tube slowly inflate in his briefs, wandering crazily to the left along the crease of his thigh.
“First,” she said, “go and get me a margarita.” One of her sky-high espadrilles hit the tiled pool deck as her legs spread even wider. “Second, you can get between your mum’s legs and fuck her silly.”
* * *
[SOME TIME PREVIOUSLY]
“Oooh, Henry, look at that pool!” Jasmine dropped her bag and grabbed onto his arm in her excitement, pointing inside the door.
A natural pool some thirty feet long and ten across was sunk deeply into the floor of the spa. Open to the sky and surrounded by a wealth of greenery, the room was clouded with steam rising from the pool. The water itself, however, was pink as a strawberry smoothie, and gently churning from below.
“Yeah, I can see, mom.” Henry rolled his eyes like only a jaded college junior could. The woman who’d opened the door shot him a hard look.
“We call that the Heartspring, hon.” Ronnie gently closed the door. “A natural hot spring welling up from island, it’s the heart of Jocasta’s Playground.”
“But it’s pink! Why is it pink?” Jasmine asked, hooking her arm back through the strap of her bag.
“Nobody knows.” Ronnie waggled her eyebrows mysteriously. “We do let folks play around in the Heartspring sometimes, but there are two pools on the grounds – there’s an indoor lap pool down that corridor there,” she pointed down a seemingly endless stretch of wood-panelled hallway, “and a more casual outdoor pool. Not that we get to use it much, but it’s nice when the sun’s out. Are you sure you don’t want me to call Barry to come and get your bags?”
“Nono,” Henry’s mother waved her away. “I can manage.”
Ronnie gave the boy a withering look. “Maybe you should give your mother a hand.”
“I am fine.” Jasmine insisted, and Henry gave their guide a shrug.
The brunette’s hazel eyes smouldered under her pixie cut and she seemed to be about to say something when she let out a long sigh. “Alright, whatever you guys say. This way, come on.”
Towering over his mother and the receptionist by at least a foot or more, Henry nonetheless enjoyed the view as they followed Ronnie through the labyrinthine corridors of the spa, watching her well-muscled behind twitch back and forth in an abbreviated pair of black lycra shorts that let her show off every sculpted inch of her silky-smooth (if not very long) legs.
He was glad for the first female company he’d had since they landed (besides his own mother) and even gladder that she was a tightly-packed, muscular little MILF who would look fantastic seated atop his thick cock, squirming and-
“Here konyaaltı escort you go, guys. Right in here.” Ronnie swiped a card and opened the door to their suite. She ushered mother and son inside.
Henry gave her one last lingering look as she shut the door on them. Jasmine dropped all their bags on the floor and stretched.
“Oh my god that feels so good!” She stood on her tiptoes, arms reaching out for the ceiling and held that pose for a moment. The hem of her dusty pink hoodie rose up above the waistband of jeans, exposing a long slice of caramel skin. “I could just do with a cup of tea, right now.” She cast about the suite.
The room was wide open from wall-to-wall, with only differing levels of elevation to indicate changes in purpose. At the highest level, set atop its own tiny pedestal, sat a large circular bed with a commanding view of the rest of the suite, including the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out on the misty forest beyond. On the middle tier, a granite-inlaid bathroom nook featured an expansive whirlpool tub set directly in the floor and a glass-walled shower cubicle that made no concessions to privacy. At the bottom, a gas-fed fire shimmered in the heart of a sunken firepit surrounded by a semicircle of plush seating open to the enormous windows.
Not a kettle to be seen. Nor a phone, for that matter. Or a television.
“This place is fuckin’ weird.” Henry said, stifling a yawn. He was staring at the huge bed.
“It’s a spa, sweetheart.” Jasmine said. “Perhaps they don’t go in for technology. But I could just murder a cuppa right now.” His mom let loose her bun, sending hair tumbling down over her shoulder in a long black waterfall. “I’m going to pop out and check out the cafe; did you want to come?”
He grunted, and started up the stairs towards the bed. “Nah. I’m just gonna stay here.” Halfway up, he stopped and turned. “Why aren’t there two beds?”
“I’ve no idea,” she said. “I’m sure I said two beds. I’ll get it sorted on my way to the cafe. You go on and have a nap. It’s been a long day.”
* * *
The main Jocasta’s Playground building was a maze, and no mistake. Sometimes she was looking outside, sometimes she felt like she was thirty feet underground. Sometimes the signage seemed obvious – RECEPTION THIS WAY – only to lead her to a multifunctional space or a “Yoga Grotto” or a “Massage Therapy” room.
Eventually, Jasmine passed a door that lead out into the misty forest and decided to take her chances with the paths outside. If she stuck to the right, she figured, she should eventually come around the side of the building to the front.
The fog-bound forest was wasn’t cold, but the damp cut through her hoodie and loose joggers, seeping into her bones.
Eventually, she came to a sign:
**JOCASTA’S PLAYGROUND RESORT AND SPA**
**<- CAFE 10M** **RECEPTION AND GUEST SUITES 75M->**
**<-SEASIDE OVERLOOK 100M** **POOL 50M->**
**WELCOME, ENJOY AND LOSE YOURSELF**
Reception wasn’t that far away, and she really did need something hot to shake the fog out of her joints.
Jasmine turned left, and headed to the Cafe.
It was a snug little cedar-paneled building not far off the path, well-lit with a small number of patio tables and muskoka chairs situated outside, getting progressively wetter and wetter. **RHEA’S DELIGHTS** was etched into the glass door, which whooshed open as she approached, releasing the heavenly, homey smells of baked goods and the promise of hot tea.
Stepping through, the inside of the shop teemed with dozens of tall glass jars, thick with teas of every type and description. Red, white, black, green, herbal in a dizzying array of mixes and blends and flavours. The counter top featured the usual assortment of baked goods – muffins, cookies, oatcakes and such. Half a dozen small tables were littered throughout, none large enough to accommodate more than two, and most were empty that evening, save for one couple sitting in the back.
“Hello, lovely!” A woman stood up from behind the counter. She was a head or two taller than Jasmine, with a tumbling, loopy mane of deep red curls; her generous mouth was twisted in a wry grin. A tight white t-shirt was stretched across the impressive swells of her breasts, distorting the Jocasta’s logo embossed in sequins over the left. She looked like she was about Jasmine’s own age, somewhere in her early forties, and very well-preserved. “Well, aren’t you new?”
“Hello,” Jasmine said, blushing a bit. “Yes. We just arrived today. How did you know?”
“It’s a small island,” the woman, obviously the proprietor, winked at her. “I’m Rhea, like it says on the door. Everybody comes through here eventually, and I haven’t seen you before. You’re not here by yourself, are you?”
“Oh no, no.” Jasmine shook her head. “My son Henry is back in our room.”
“You couldn’t drag him out with you?”
“No, he was so tired after our trip that I wanted to let him sleep, poor thing.”
“Silly boy,” Rhea laughed. “Ah well, it’s kültür escort early days yet. What can I get for you?”
“Oh just a cup of tea, please.”
“Did you have a particular preference?” The redhead swept her arm, indicating the whole shop. “You’re a bit spoiled for choice, there.”
“Um,” Jasmine looked around helplessly. None of the usual varieties seemed evident, and everything else had fairly vague names – Island Rest, Heartspring Healing, Outlook Morning – that didn’t indicate very much. “Black, I guess? What do you recommend?”
“I know just the thing,” Rhea laughed again, a warm throaty chuckle. She reached down behind the counter and pulled out a half-empty glass jar of black tea leaves. “It’s our most popular blend – Grey Goddess – an Earl Grey-based tea with a few local herbal additions. Trust me, you’ll love it.” Deftly, she scooped a heap of it into a small pouch, and dropped it into a steaming mug of hot water. “We’ll let it steep for a while so you can get the full effect.”
“For you? Tonight?” She looked around at the nearly-empty cafe, and leaned over the countertop. “Free for you, love.” Rhea winked. “Go and take a seat, and I’ll bring it over once it’s ready.”
Jasmine picked out a table, and sat down. In the back of the cafe, a woman and a man were huddled closely over their drinks; they’d obviously been out for a run or something, they were wearing abbreviated running shorts and trainers along with still-damp jackets. Their bare legs met under the table and rubbed gently together. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d sat with someone like that; since Henry’s father passed away, certainly, and that was easily ten years ago.
Though willow thin, the woman looked somewhat older than her companion, probably by a decade or more. Her legs were long and flawless, but her age betrayed by a few crow’s feet around her eyes and traces of grey around her temples.
“Here you are, darlin’,” Rhea arrived with the tea, along with a slice of banana loaf on a plate. Wiping her hands on the apron tied around her trim waist, she sat down across from Jasmine. “Go on, give it a go.”
The mug was warm, and welcome heat seeped through Jasmine’s chilly fingers. Raising it to her lips, she took a sip, then another. The citrusy taste of the Earl Grey was dominant, but there was something else, something warm and spicy and delicious underneath. Mindful of the hot water, she took another, bigger mouthful.
“It’s lovely,” she said. “Just wonderful!” Over at the other table, the woman had spilled some of her drink. Droplets of amber liquid rolled down the length of her calf. Immediately, the man sprang to his feet, grabbing a couple of napkins; taking a knee on the floor, he began to lovingly wipe his partner’s leg.
Rhea smiled as they watched him, and Jasmine drank again.
“It’s lovely to have someone to do for you,” Rhea said, with surprising forcefulness. “Someone to lend a hand, somebody who can pick up after you, and treat you a bit like a queen.”
Jasmine blushed again. “Oh, wouldn’t it?” She drank, mulling over the other woman’s words. “But I’ve never- It’s been such a long-”
“I thought you said you had a boy?” The cafe owner turned to look at her.
“Henry?” Jasmine laughed. “No no, if anything, I’m the one who looks after him. After his father passed away, I just got used to trying to keep him safe and happy and content. A bit too much, maybe. I’ve been his live-in maid for years. I can’t remember the last time he did anything for me.”
“That’s not the way it should be,” Rhea’s voice was gentle, but there was steel somewhere underneath it. “A boy should look after his mum every once in a while. After all, you’ve been taking care of him, haven’t you? It’s only fair.”
“Oh, I suppose,” she shrank in her chair a bit, feeling like she was being judged. She took another, bigger drink.
“When my boy Charles comes over from the main building,” the redhead said, nodding in the direction of the main Jocasta’s building, “after a long day of running the kitchen over yonder, the first thing he says is, ‘is there anything I can do for you, mum?'”
Jasmine tried to imagine Henry doing the same, and took a long pull from the mug.
“You should be a bit more forceful with him,” Rhea said. “it sounds like he runs you right over like a spoiled brat, but a boy’s natural inclination is to do what his mum says, and you should remember that. It’s too bad you’ve gone and missed Madeline’s orientation session this week, you could’ve learned a thing or two. But you should keep it in your mind, any road.”
“I…I’ll think about it.” The young man had stopped wiping his partner’s leg, and appeared to be kissing it. That couldn’t be right, could it?
“Have you seen the Heartspring?” The redhead asked, taking a bite out of Jasmine’s banana loaf.
“Yes, yes it’s gorgeous. I’ve never seen anything like it!”
“You know they let markantalya escort people swim there when nobody’s using it?” Rhea grabbed one of the napkins and a pen from her apron. She scribbled something down and pushed it over. “Here, it should be empty around then, no classes or anything. You and your son should check it out.”
“I will, thank you!” Jasmine took the napkin and stuffed it in the pocket of her hoodie. She took another long pull from the mug. The couple in the back were getting up now, and strode past, arms linked, giggling. As they passed, the woman reached down and grabbed her partners behind, giving it a hearty squeeze. Jasmine looked down, feeling very warm and slightly giddy for some reason.
“Are you alright? You look a bit flushed.”
“Yes, yes I’m fine.” She said, looking into the empty mug. “Tea’s all gone.”
“I think maybe you should head back, then. Maybe have a bit of a lie down, think it over.” Rhea pushed herself back from the table and stood. Jasmine nodded, feeling a little overwhelmed by the redheaded cafe-owner’s height, and got up herself.
Exiting into the misty night, the cool air cleared her head a little. What Rhea had said about boys and their mums was interesting, though she’d never really thought about it before. She was thinking about it now, however.
* * *
“Mom, are you sure we can even be in here?” Henry asked as she held the door open for him.
“Pretty sure!” Jasmine enthused. “Come on, live a little!” She waved him in. Their robes were the same length, so while hers dropped all the way to the floor, his fell only to calf-length, and he found himself having to hold the front together with his hands. She slipped in behind her son, and the door banged shut heavily behind them.
“Oh, just smell that!” Henry watched as his mother took in a deep double-lungful of the moist, warm air that filled up the Heartspring atrium, despite being open to the sky. The front of her robe expanded and began to part in a fashion he suddenly found very interesting, then embarrassing. When was the last time he’d had sex, anyway?
“Breathe it in!” Reluctantly, he did, and felt a warmth suffuse through his body from toes to fingertips, making his extremities tingle a little.
“What is that smell?” It was spicy and warm and homey and something else. Henry shrugged off his robe, and Jasmine was suddenly struck by how fit her son looked; had he always been so broad? As the terrycloth settled around his feet, she couldn’t help but stare at the smooth brown skin of his abdominals; they bunched and flexed when he kicked the robe away to the side. His bright-green boardshorts fell to knee-length but draped nicely over the rounded swell of his behind. His mother licked her lips and looked back at the water, a smoothly roiling strawberry pink.
“I don’t know, but isn’t it lovely? I can’t wait to try the water!” Jasmine untied her own robe, and let it fall to the floor. She wore a modest, high-necked purple one piece suit that suddenly felt too a little tight around the chest as her nipples sparked to life. The suit was cut to conceal as much skin as possible, but could do very little to hide the impressive size of her breasts while white piping along the side emphasized the exaggerated curve of her waist as it tucked in above her hips. Looking over, she saw that Henry was staring at her. In unison, they blinked.
She edged towards the water, and dipped a toe in. It was hot, just above body-temperature, and it sent a thrill through her body. Gingerly walking into the water, she found it went no deeper than her waist; a gentle frisson of bubbles popped around her navel while she felt the tingly feeling suffuse through her lower body. On a sudden impulse, Jasmine bent her knees and jumped, diving beneath the surface.
Warm, pink water folded around her and sluiced through the gaps in her suit, briefly taking her in a heated, tingling embrace. She relished the sensation for a moment, kicking her legs until they found the bottom again and jumped upwards. Breaking through in a wild splash, liquid poured from her long black hair and face in a pink waterfall, plastering the one-piece suit to her body as it flowed over every nook and cranny.
Henry, still standing on the edge, breathing heavily of the perfumed steam emanating from the Heartspring, stared wide-eyed at his mother as her fingers combed through her hair, flipping it out of her face, back arched, breasts proudly thrust towards him. The wet lycra looked oilslick slippery as it moulded around the firm globes of her tits, jostling for space underneath her suit. As the water dripped from her face, Jasmine’s rose-petal-pink lips glistened, momentarily frozen in a gasping “O” as she sucked in the spicy air of the springs.
Before she could open her eyes again, Henry had jumped into the water ten, fifteen feet away in a terrific splash that sent a small tsunami towards her. Looking downrange, she watched him trying to float, stretching out in the hot spring as far as his long, broad body would go, and she spied a thick bulging mound gently rising over his left thigh. The sudden knowledge that she was spying on her own son’s endowment sent a forbidden thrill through her body as she briefly wondered about its dimensions.
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