WET [Part 5 - Horny People]

My summer at the adults-only water park…

After my conversation with Pete, I started to notice it everywhere, and just the very next day, I was stationed in the quiet corridor outside the restaurant, watching the elevator, waiting for Pete.

Had I not been, I would have missed it.

The doors to elevator slid open to reveal a guy in a linen shirt and a woman in a black cocktail dress.Her eyes were wide and panicked, and she was fumbling with the strap of her dress, yanking the thin fabric up over her shoulder with a jerky, desperate motion. The guy stepped away from her quickly, his hand casually dropping to his side. The woman was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling under the now-smooth dress, and she cleared her throat, patting down her slightly ruffled hair. The man adjusted the front of his pants as subtly as he could manage.

But it was too late. I’d seen them already. The flash of her breast, pale against the maroon elevator walls. Her nipple, hard and dark and slightly compressed by his thumb. His cock, stuffed awkwardly back inside his zipper at the last moment. And I knew, with a certainty that made my own thighs press together, that just seconds before the doors had opened, in that small, moving box, he had been inside her.

The next thing I saw was on the tennis courts.

From my vantage point at the resort window, I watched as a man stood behind a woman, positioning himself against her as he guided her racket swing. She was wearing a pure white tennis outfit, her skirt barely more than a fringe, and with each demonstration of form, she pressed back into him. His hands lingered on her hips, and he looked like he was whispering in her ear, her eyes closed as she subtly gyrated against him, arching her back. When a gust of wind caught the fabric of her skirt, it lifted just enough to reveal a neatly manicured landing strip beneath, and I realised she was not wearing any panties.

I licked my lips, trying not to stare as she pushed her naked ass back against him…

A few days later I was assigned to monitor the Thunder Plunge, the tallest of the three water slides, a job that consisted mostly of checking if the last person had come out the other end and telling riders to cross their arms. From my perch, high above the sprawling aquatic complex, I had a panoramic view of everything. The wave pool, the activity pool, the winding, emerald-green ribbon of the lazy river. Which is exactly where I saw them, a couple drifting along in a pool inflatable in the shape of a figure-eight. The woman was in the front, her back to the man, and from this distance, they looked like any other couple relaxing, soaking up the afternoon sun, his right arm casually draped casually over her side.

But it wasn’t just resting there. I could see the faint, rhythmic movement of his forearm, the slight tensing and releasing of the muscle as he worked his hand beneath the surface. Her face was relaxed but strained, her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted. I’d already seen enough to know that his fingers were stroking her, parting her, circling her clit right there in the open.

I continued my duties, watching them drift, watching him bring her closer to the edge, her toes curling, her legs widening. When they reached the exit ramp. He helped her stand, his hands lingering on her waist, her legs trembling slightly as she found her footing. From there, they walked toward the Grotto; a semi-secluded area comprising a cluster of artificial rock formations with a small, cascading waterfall that created a curtain of mist and noise. Everyone knew it was a popular make-out spot, shielded and obstructed from just about every angle. Except one. Mine.

Within seconds, the woman was no longer in her swimsuit. She was bent over, her hands braced on the smooth, wet edge of the wall, her back a beautiful, taut arch. Her ass was perfect, flaring out from her narrow waist, the cleft between them deep and inviting. Her legs were spread slightly.

I saw her like this for only a moment before the man was behind her, one hand on her hip, pushing into her slowly, his hips pressed tight against her ass. I guess they knew they could be caught at any moment, because this wasn’t a gentle and erotic love making.

It was a hard, deep, fucking.

He set a punishing pace, his grip on her hip tightening, her face turning red instantly, his other hand coming up to tangle in her hair, pulling her head back further. The angle changed, and I could see his cock pistoning into her, her body responding with a violence of its own, pushing back against him, meeting his thrusts, her ass rippling with the impact. He responded in kind, his movements becoming more erratic, more forceful. He let go of her hair and reached around. I couldn’t see his fingers, but I saw the effect they had. Her whole body jolted as if she’d been shocked, legs turning rigid, shaking and spasming as he buried himself in her one last time, filling her up, holding her close as he came inside her.

Thirty seconds later and it was all over.

My body was humming, my legs weak, as if I was the one who’d received the fucking. And I knew, with a sick, sinking feeling, that as soon as my shift was over and I got back to my room, I would need to fuck myself.

Hard.

Which is exactly what I did.

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