Introduction
This is the third and final edition of a trilogy. Please read the first two episodes if you already haven’t done so. In the first two parts, the narrator (Murray Stanton) and his lifelong friend (Gene Jacklin) decide not to vacation in Las Vegas as they usually do annually. Instead, they opt to travel to far-off Laos. Why? They are lured by positive internet reports of wonderful all-inclusive brothels that cater to fortyish men like them. After doing plenty of online research, they book a week at one called Supreme Spa. Murray, who hasn’t seen Gene since shortly after they checked in at the so-called spa, has had a terrific time, experiencing fantastic sexual fun with two Asian beauties in his first two days. Furthermore, the buffet with its western cuisine has been excellent, too! The third instalment picks up with Murray in the buffet lineup after a romp with a busty Thai girl.
Part One
I, Murray Stanton, began my third full day at Supreme Spa with a refreshing, warm shower and a trip to the hotel’s large buffet room. So far both the girls I had bedded and the food I had consumed had been undeniably marvelous. I used to think Las Vegas was the ultimate vacation destination. I had to seriously reevaluate that notion. Supreme Spa in Laos was easily the front-runner now.
When I entered the buffet, I saw Gene leaving. I had not seen him since we checked in. I suspected he, like I, was fully immersed in the carnal pleasures found at Supreme Spa and had not missed his best friend at all. I was right. Our conversation, if you can call it that, lasted less than a minute. “Hi, Murray,” he quickly said to me, hardly bothering to stop. “I just came here to have a quick bite to eat before returning to my room. I have to go. I have a sexy Filipina back there waiting in my bed. I don’t intend to keep her waiting much longer. I’ll talk to you later. Bye!” He walked swiftly away from me. I did not have a chance to say a single word to him.
It was just as well, because as soon as I began to load my plate with fluffy scrambled eggs, fried potatoes, bacon and sausages, I was approached by a man who was clad in a three-piece suit. I had not seen him before, but he was obviously part of Supreme Spa’s management team.
“Good morning, Mr. Stanton,” he said to me with not much friendliness. He had a slightly stern expression on his face. “Can you bring your breakfast to my table and join me, please?” he asked me. “I need to speak with you about something important.”
This was extremely worrisome to me. On the Supreme Spa website, there were very strong warnings that any type of trouble or misbehavior would be quickly and harshly dealt with by security. Offhand, I could not think of anything at all that I might have done wrong since checking in, except perhaps screwing my two delightful bedmates especially vigorously. I quickly dismissed that as a possibility. If that was a transgression, every guest at the spa would likely be in big trouble!
I sat down at a round table with him at the far end of the buffet room. I saw from his nametag that he was Mr. Lam and his title was general-manager. That made him the biggest of the bigshot employees at Supreme Spa. As soon as we were seated, he became much more genial toward me.
“Oh, Mr. Stanton, did you not get a beverage because I rushed you?” he asked me. “Sorry about that!” Before I had a chance to answer him, he called over a buffet staff member and asked him to bring us two large glasses of mango juice, one for each of us. “I believe this is your favorite fruit juice. Am I correct about that?”
That comment startled me. “Yes, it is. I don’t see mango juice often when I buy groceries at home, so I overindulge in it when I see it at a buffet. I could drink it by the gallon. But how did you know that?”
“Here at Supreme Spa we get to know a great deal about our clients’ likes and dislikes,” he began. "We make it our business to know. For example, another beverage you enjoy is cherry cola. You also garnish your cheeseburgers with plenty of fried onions.”
I just laughed at this man’s knowledge of my personal esoterica. “Your spies are accurate!” I told him with a grin. “Surely you didn’t take me aside to chat about my favorite foods, though, did you?”
“No, Mr. Stanton, that was merely a politeness,” Mr. Lam replied. “I think in your part of the world—western Canada, I believe—such unimportant small talk is called ‘breaking the ice.’ We also know that you are very gentlemanly in your sexual behavior with our lovely female employees. That speaks well of your overall character, sir.”
I was startled for the second time. “Do you have hidden cameras and microphones in the guests’ hotel rooms?” I asked him. I was only partially joking.
“No, nothing like that at all,” he chortled. “But you must have noticed that all our lovely companions carry logbooks with them. That is where they record the ID numbers from the wristbands of their clients to keep track of the hours they are occupied—and whom they are servicing and when. Those logbooks are turned in daily to us. There is a section in each logbook that allows the girl to record anything she wants about her experience with a specific client. It is not mandatory. Maybe one girl in a dozen jots down anything. Our Girl #12 was diligent enough to write quite a very lengthy and positive review about you, Mr. Stanton. It is very flattering, indeed.”
Mr. Lam had made a photocopy of it and read it aloud to me. I was described by Girl #12 as being “a perfect gentleman every second we were together” and “a truly romantic lover who cared enough to want to please me in bed as well”. Furthermore, she stated that she would like to have me as her husband if our situations in life had been different!
Wow! I honestly did not know how to react to that remarkable statement. I didn’t think my behavior toward Girl #12 had been extraordinary in any way. Yes, I had been kind, polite and gentle with her at all times. During the times we fucked, I was slightly concerned that I may have been overly excited and perhaps a bit rough when I rode her to an orgasm. I guess not! Therefore, this complimentary review from her was totally surprising to me.
“Thank you very much for relaying this to me,” I finally said after a long period of silence. “I think I’ll have to bed Girl #12 at least one more time to show my appreciation for her kind words in the logbook. By the way, she was a fabulous sex partner.”
“Mr. Stanton, I’m sure that can be arranged,” Mr. Lam said. “As a favor, I’d like you to spend time with another one of our girls first. It is a specific one. I will make it worth your while. Let me explain the main reason I wanted to speak with you this morning.”
“Please do,” I encouraged him. “Despite the glowing review that Girl #12 wrote about me, I certainly hope I’m not in any sort of trouble here. I plan on coming back many times.”
“Trouble? Absolutely not!” Mr. Lam assured me. Then he began a long monologue. He explained that Supreme Spa had a large turnover in girls for a variety of reasons. Any girl who falsified the hours recorded in her logbook was swiftly dismissed, as was any girl who got more than one negative review for lack of enthusiasm in servicing her clients. As the spa’s general-manager, Mr. Lam wanted excellent, motivated employees who would be there for a long time and who were undeniably appealing to the clients.
“Okay,” I said to him. “But how does any of that involve me personally? I can attest that I’ve been quite satisfied with my two girls here, #12 and #74—especially #12!”
“We have a new girl starting today,” he continued. “She is a young Thai beauty, age 18, who would be hugely popular here based on her attractiveness. The problem is she has very little knowledge in sex work. I’m afraid if she has some sort of off-putting experience right away with a customer who is not gentlemanly with her, we might lose her as an employee. I don’t want that to happen!”
I was starting to get the picture, but I did not want to stop Mr. Lam until he said what I was longing to hear, so I just let him carry on with what he was saying.
“Based on Girl #12’s written comments and a talk I just had with Girl #74, who was also quite complimentary toward you, I want you to be the first client of Girl #97. She’s the Thai beauty I was telling you about. Be as kind to her as you were with the other two. I want you to be with her for the next three days—72 hours straight. Spend as much time in bed with her as possible. You don’t have to leave your room for food. Just telephone the buffet room, ask for the manager, tell him you are the guest in Room 217 and all the meals for both of you will be delivered.”
Considering that just a few minutes earlier I thought I was in trouble for violating some rule, this was fantastic news. However, I tried my best to keep a poker face to get the best possible deal. I replied to Mr. Lam, “That’s very enticing, sir, but three uninterrupted days is a long time to spend with the same girl when I'm only here for seven days in total. You have so many fabulous females to sample here. I do want to have more sex with Girl #12 before I leave Laos five days from now.”
Mr. Lam quickly put me at ease. “I told you I would make it worth your while if you do this for me, so here is my offer: In exchange for Girl #97 occupying your time completely for the next 72 hours, you are cordially invited to return to Supreme Spa at some future date of your choice and spend a week here as a VIP absolutely free of charge. Does that appeal to you?”
That was undoubtedly the silliest question I had ever been asked in my life. Of course, I immediately said yes—and I could not wait to tell Gene that I was being rewarded in the best possible way for my gentlemanly behavior. He would be an envious chap!
Mr. Lam and I ate a leisurely breakfast. We chatted. I asked him about the girls’ logbooks and what other types of things the employees wrote about their customers.
“The girls are quite forthright about the clients they like and dislike,” he told me. “We appreciate their candor. It helps us. If we get too many negative comments about a client, he will be banned. Often the girls look out for each other with their comments. Last week one girl wrote, ‘Client M64, Mr. Ferguson, has a very long and strong dick. I could take it, but he could seriously hurt some of the smaller girls who work here. It’s that big!’ Wasn’t that thoughtful of her?”
I agreed it was kind of her to report that. I just hoped Mr. Ferguson was personally apprised of the positive review he got, just as I had been of mine. I also envied him tremendously.
Part Two
When breakfast ended, I hustled back to my room. I noticed that new sheets had been put on the bed. I tidied myself up in anticipation of Girl #97’s arrival. I even dabbed on some cologne I found in my toiletry set that had never been opened in the four years I had owned it. I had just finished brushing my teeth when I heard a loud series of knocks on the door. Girl #97 was there. She had been personally escorted to my room by Mr. Lam. He explained that my bedmate’s English was very limited, but she had been told about my gentlemanly reputation as a sex partner and that she was expected to stay by my side for 72 hours. She had a suitcase that had several days’ worth of clothing in it.
I was now totally in favor of this arrangement. Girl #12 could wait. I wanted to screw Girl #97 immediately! She was exactly as she had been advertised—absolutely gorgeous from head to toe. She was clad simply in a yellow t-shirt bearing an image of the moon, pristine white shorts, white ankle socks, and tennis shoes. She was leggy and tall for a Thai girl and only modestly busty. However, she possessed an utterly beautiful face—perhaps the most attractive I had ever seen. Her shimmering straight hair was decorated with plastic accoutrements typically used by much younger females in Canada. All the girls at Supreme Spa were supposed to be at least 18 years old. I was aware that Asian girls often look younger by western standards than they truly are, but even I suspected Girl #97 had not been entirely truthful about her age when she applied for this job. But if she attested that she was 18 years old, that’s what she was—18! Who was I to question it? I certainly wasn’t going to ask to see her birth certificate.
I took her suitcase and set it beside mine it a corner of my room. Girl #97 bowed to me reverently. (That was something new and charming!) She pulled a note from her pocket and read it aloud to me. It had obviously been written phonetically in her own language, likely by another of the spa’s girls. The note read, “Mr. Murray Stanton, I am here to please you in bed for the next three days. I am new at this job, but I know you will be kind and gentle with me. I eagerly await the fuck!”
I laughed at the last line and quickly replied, “I eagerly await the fuck, too. Do I ever!” I began to disrobe, and so did Girl #97.
Before we got into bed, which was clearly where we would be spending most of the next 72 hours, I gently explored her 5’7” nude body. Every place on it was magnificent to caress and fondle. Similar to Girl #12, Girl #97’s breasts were not especially large but they had fantastic nipples that just begged to be sucked. Her pussy had less hair than I expected. It too was visually beautiful. She had the gorgeous legs of a female athlete, sexy little toes on her small feet, and a cute bum that was the first thing I laid my hands on. Even her navel was somehow attractive! While we were still standing, I kissed every inch of her. Her girlish giggles in response just encouraged me more. I honestly worried that my three days with spectacular Girl #97 would sail by too quickly!
When I lifted her off the ground so I could carry her to my bed, Girl #97 began kissing me romantically. I very gently placed her where the pillows were stacked. I quickly cuddled up beside her. I stroked my phallus a couple of times. That was totally unnecessary because it was as stiff as it had ever been in my life.
I took Girl #97’s hand and placed it on my penis. She got the idea and began tugging on it. She was doing it too hard and fast for my liking, so I grabbed her wrist to slow her down. “I see!” she said. The two-word sentence was one of the few in English that she had mastered. She used it a lot whenever I signaled her to do some sex act she readily understood.
I interrupted the hand job and stuck out my tongue. “Lick my dick!” I requested. “I see!” Girl #97 replied and got busy with her tongue. When I indicated I wanted to enjoy her sexy tits, I mimicked a sucking motion and touched her pointy pair. “I see!” she declared and pushed my head between the two of them. They were delicious things for my mouth to savor.
After about five minutes of fabulous foreplay, I decided to be brash. I said something I knew Girl #97 would likely not understand. It was, “I want to shoot a huge load of cum inside your pussy and make a beautiful baby.” I got a blank stare as I expected. Then I made a circle with the index finger and thumb on my left hand. I stuck my right middle finger inside it and moved it in and out.
That gesture she understood easily. “Oh...fucky-fucky! I see!” and she promptly spread her legs wide to accommodate me.
Her pussy was the tightest of the three girls I had experienced at Supreme Spa. I tried my best to be gentle, but I was a horny middle-age man who was fucking one of Nature’s best examples of feminine beauty. After perhaps three minutes of riding this angel, my penis responded with an ejaculation for the ages. It produced a veritable gusher of goo, rope after rope entering Girl #97’s vagina.
“Lord, have mercy! What a cum shot!” I declared. Amazingly, I didn’t feel exhausted by it in the slightest. Instead, I felt oddly rejuvenated by fucking this youthful Asian beauty. I figured Girl #97 must possess special powers to be able to do that to a 43-year-old bedmate!
I had no intention of pulling out of her anytime soon, so I just happily laid atop Girl #97 for what had to be at least 30 minutes. I wasn’t totally idle, though. I still occasionally thrusted my busy penis—which was mostly flaccid now—into her pussy, and licking her pointy breasts. I laughed when I realized I was indirectly getting paid to do this job that 99% of normal males in the world would pay a lot of money to do.
We embraced and kissed each other in every spot imaginable. Eventually the overall effect on me was another erection, another wonderful fuck (this time doggie-style), and a second ejaculation. This one wasn’t anywhere as sizeable or powerful as the first one, but Girl #97 didn’t seem to care at all. I know I didn’t.
We both slept for an hour or two, all the while continuing our loving embrace. Eventually, I called the buffet manager, said what Mr. Lam had instructed me to say, and got room service. We didn’t get just two plates of various food. We got a miniature buffet of everything on the menu—enough to feed about eight people by my conservative estimate. The buffet employee who delivered the food got a treat himself when Girl #97 answered the door in her fabulous birthday suit. When he left the room he muttered to me, “You are the luckiest guy on the planet!” I was in no position to disagree.
Ten minutes later, there was a second knock on the door. A bottle of red wine, a special gift courtesy of Mr. Lam, arrived with a note. It read, “Congratulations, both of you, on your first fuck together. May you have many more in the next three days.” Amusingly, it somehow took five buffet employees to deliver the lone bottle. They had obviously heard how sexy and beautiful Girl #97 was when she immodestly opened the door for the food delivery. Her repeat performance was well received. I laughed and said, “You guys just get a quick glimpse of her body. I get to fuck her continually for 72 hours. I’d say that’s better.”
Part Four
Over the next 72 hours, we did not leave my room at all. We fucked, slept, showered, and ate our meals in Room 217 without so much as strolling down the hallway even once. We stayed when the bed linen was being changed, which was frequently. We even watched more than a little bit of television together, in bed of course. I noticed that one of the available TV channels was nonstop pornography—another all-inclusive service of Supreme Spa. Girl #97 was fascinated by it. She didn’t say so in words due to our language barrier, but when she saw something on the screen that intrigued her, she indicated that she wanted to try it. I was more than happy to oblige her. I learned a few things too, such as the sexual position comically known as “the pile driver.” I launched my sixth and final cum shot into Girl #97’s desirable vagina using that highly awkward method of delivery.
Three days eventually did elapse, and I eventually called Mr. Lam to say our deal had been completed. I tried to make it sound like it was some sort of hardship on me, but even over the telephone Mr. Lam saw right through me. “I believe what you just told me was what you people in North America call bullshit!”
“Guilty!” I replied with a laugh. “This was a fabulous experience for me. I’ve never had a better 72 hours in my life.”
“Check the clock,” he told me. “So far you’ve had Girl #97 as your bedmate for more than 75 hours, not 72.”
“Here’s another saying from North America,” I replied. “Time flies when you’re having fun!”
He laughed and asked me, “When do you want Girl #12 sent to your room? You can have her anytime you like. She’s waiting eagerly to please you.”
I had completely forgotten about beautiful and sexy Girl #12—which would have been unthinkable just four days earlier when she was sharing my bed. “Oh yes, Girl #12!” I said to him. “Girl #97 will be reporting to you soon. Once she arrives in your office, wait about 20 minutes and then you can send Girl #12 to my room. I’m thoroughly exhausted from all the fucking I’ve done since I arrived in Laos, but I’ll do my best.”
Mr. Lam asked me to hand the telephone to Girl #97. It was to inform her that her long assignment with me had now concluded, and she should report to him to await further work at Supreme Spa. Amazingly, that news made her cry! I gathered she had become accustomed to sharing my room and a certain key part of my male anatomy—and apparently liked the arrangement very much. I spent 20 minutes trying to console her. I eventually did stop the flow of tears. Girl #97 gave me a very sexy and passionate farewell kiss that lasted at least five minutes before she departed. Her right hand was inside my pants, caressing my testicles while we smooched. She was becoming a real pro as a sex worker.
Half an hour later, Girl #12 knocked on my door. Wow! She was even more beautiful than I remembered. I told her I would be content to merely cuddle naked in bed with her because I was so exhausted from screwing her new colleague. That was fine by her. However, within two minutes, her nude presence in my well-used bed had me fully aroused. I had another strong erection, so of course we fucked. I screwed her with the “pile driver,” which made her laugh. I deposited another decent-sized load of warm semen into her welcoming vagina.
After a few moments of blissful silence, I told her I knew what she had written about me in her logbook. She was surprised, but not upset. “Thanks for those very kind words,” I told her, “but I have a problem now: I live an ocean away from here—and I now have two extremely beautiful Supreme Spa employees who want to marry me.”