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HOT AUGUST NIGHT

a short story in erotica
by thomas r. mac krell

There were only two cars in the parking lot on this sweaty-hot Saturday night during the third week in August. And both cars sported Pennsylvania plates, although this was Florida. The owners lived in nearly opposite ends of PA, but had met here for a joint vacation. The summer sun had long since set, and there was only a sliver of a moon, yet the temperature outside was still 88 degrees.
In the Spa it was much hotter yet. There Margaret and Walt perspired profusely as the jets of aerated water pulsed against the small of their backs. These groups of muscles would, indeed, have to be extremely relaxed in preparation for the activities which lie ahead. It was only 10:30 P.M., and in less than an hour they would have the air-conditioning to cool them down, and one another to heat them back up. They sat at opposite sides of the circular hot tub and from time to time their toes would touch in the center and they would interlock their feet in an embrace. They spoke of how long it had been since they had seen one another, and of how wonderful it was to see each other again.
Because the jet sprays were at different levels under the water, they relocated every few minutes or so to massage a different part of the back. At about 10:45 P.M. they found themselves on the same side of the hot tub where the jets were deepest and the pressure on their lower backs was most beneficial. They sat there side by side for another five minutes and then embraced and kissed with such intense passion that the pulses within their bodies was, at least, triple the intensity of the water jets. This was the kiss that was deprived them for nearly eleven months. A kiss so steamy, it could peel the wall paper from the walls. Margaret wrapped her long, slender legs around Walt's waist and their pelvises thrust together. They both moaned deeply as Walt's aim had been right on target, and only their swimsuits prevented penetration. Their hands went everywhere, to her amplebreasts, to his crotch, to her crotch, to his chest, and yet their lips and tongues had not yet parted once. They each tasted too good to the other to let go so soon after so long. She had his penis out of his swim suit now and held him firmly in her hand. With her other hand she gently moved the crotch piece of her bikini bottom aside, and with even more gentleness placed him inside her. And there in the Spa the two lovers were at once locked in splendor. He moved slowly and gently within the soft warmth of her vagina, and she held him tightly with her legs.
There were a group of teenagers swimming in the big pool about twenty-five feet away, and they had decided to visit the hot tub. As they approached, Walt withdrew his pulsing manhood and returned it inside his trunks; and Margaret repositioned the crotch of her bikini. The teens arrived at the Spa just as Margaret and Walt exited; and the group witnessed two very sizable nipples pressing to escape the top of Margaret's bra and a very firm hard-on straining at the center seam of Walt's trunks. No shame was apparent, as these two people were too in love and involved with each other to feel ashamed.
It didn't take long for them to travel the fifty yards or so to the room, which was on the second floor. They were still aroused when they arrived there, and headed immediately onto the balcony overlooking the parking lot. Several more cars were parked there now. Walt reached inside the door and flicked off the balcony light. Margaret sat down in one of the patio chairs in the corner away from the door. Walt walked over to her, bent over, and kissed, first her forehead, then her cheek, and then attempted to massage her tonsils with his tongue. Before long she was returning the favor. He knelt down in front of her, shielding her from the parking lot below. Slowly he worked the still wet bottom of her swimsuit down below her hips, then down to her knees, to her ankles and finally off. She parted her legs and he moved between them, placing his towel under his knees. And once again she released his raging manhood from the confines of his swim trunks and, once again, she gently guided him into that special place where every man wants to go. There was from that moment, the moment of penetration, much bumping and grinding and thrusting and squeezing. She squeezed him in her arms holding tight, she squeezed him with her vagina holding fast. Their breathing became audible, but because they were in a dark corner, no one could have seen, even if they did pass below, they'd have only heard and surmised. Everything was happening faster now, the tongues intertwining and circling and prodding and tasting; they were salivating profusely in their hunger and in their desire to please the other. They tried desperately to be quiet, but their passion would just not allow total silence. Even their movements caused more than just small sounds. The back of the patio chair pounded against the wall. They were one entity now, and as that magic moment approached, if anyone had been in the parking lot (and they were both too busy to tell if anyone was), this is what they would have heard, "Margaret!", "Walt, Wow!", "Oh god, Margaret!", "Walt!". And then utter silence, save for the sound of their breathing; and perhaps they would have heard the whispers, "Walter, I love you." and "I love you, too, Margaret, with all my being."
He retrieved his towel and wrapped it around her waist. He helped her to her feet, and as they walked through the door back into the room toward the bed and the cigarettes, they heard -----
applause, coming from somewhere in the night.
Once inside the room with the door firmly locked, they began a laughing fit that lasted for several minutes. The only way to stop it was to hop in the shower, and wash each other, and hold each other, and kiss each other. And even then there were giggles and chuckles throughout the night. The thought of being watched was exciting to them both, and they commenced another round of love-making. And they both knew there would be no sleeping on that Hot August ight.

Copyright,1998, Thomas R. Mac Krell.

Music is "It's All Coming Back To Me Now"

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