Chapter 4

The following afternoon, Maya scouted out the shack where Wes did his massages. She watched as a large and mature woman, American by her voice, emerged after half an hour, looking very pleased with herself. Maya waited until she was out of sight and then walked over to the shack.

“Hello? Wes?”

“Hi missy. A quick one? I got someone coming.”

He pulled her inside, led her through to a back area and lifted her sundress.

“You came prepared,” he commented, looking at her bare sex.

“I didn’t know how long you’d have, so I thought why waste time.”

He hoisted her bottom onto a table, spread her legs and penetrated her.

She was getting close when a man’s voice came from outside.

“Hello? Anyone home?”

Wes pulled out of her abruptly. As he stepped into his shorts, he said: “Gotta go. Business before pleasure, even with you. Nothin’ personal.”

She was panting, frustrated and annoyed, about to complain. Wes laid a finger to his lips and she closed her mouth. If this is how he makes his living, who am I to get in the way? Be grateful, Maya. You had last night and it was great.

Wes pointed to a little circle cut in the reed wall. “You can watch,” he mouthed. Maya stood, pulled her dress down and put her eye to the spy hole. A couple in their mid-thirties was deep in conversation with Wes.

I recognise them. She’s Philippa and he’s David, from somewhere very upmarket near London, as he tells anyone he talks to. He’s not bad, I suppose, but not my sort. Too sure of his attractiveness. She thinks he’s wonderful, but nothing like as wonderful as he thinks he is.

They were staying in a holiday bungalow just past the one Maya was sharing with Karen. David, tall and elegant, struck Maya as being extremely pleased with himself, and Philippa, a short, curvy woman, looked at him with an adoration that made Maya want to roll her eyes. The couple were shown into the shack, where a massage table filled the centre of the main room.

“Ready, Flip?” David said. “This is it, your birthday present to me, an anything-goes massage ... for you.”

Philippa, wearing a gold bikini, clambered obediently on to the bed. She lay on her front and unfastened the bra ties. Wes oiled up his hands. Maya looked critically at Philippa. She looked better all dressed up at the hotel bar yesterday. Like this, she’s rather flabby, in spite of her big tits. She makes me feel good about how I look with no clothes on.

Wes started work on the English woman’s back.

Oh, he wasn’t joking. He really is a masseur ... a good one. Time I left him to it. Can I get out of here without disturbing them? She looked around, but short of forcing her way through the palm-frond walls, there was no way out. She returned to the spy hole.

Wes was still doing a professional job and from her sighs, Philippa was clearly enjoying it. As Maya watched, Philippa turned on to her back and discarded her bra. Is this about to become more interesting?

Wes worked on Philippa’s shoulders, gradually moving down to her breasts. He paused and looked at David.

“I carry on?” he asked.

“One moment,” David said. He dug a video camera out of his bag and turned it on.

“Oh, David,” Philippa protested weakly. “Must you?”

“Part of my present, remember?”

Philippa subsided.

“OK, Wes. On you go.” David said.

Wes slid his hands down over Philippa’s large, soft breasts. Maya observed more carefully, now. Nipples much more erect. Philippa is getting turned on.

Wes was concentrating on Philippa’s breasts, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh to find the muscles and then coming up to squeeze her nipples. Maya could see Philippa’s stomach muscles twitching involuntarily. Wes moved down to work on her abdomen, getting closer and closer to where Philippa’s bikini bottoms hid her sex.

“You want to turn over?” Wes said. Philippa obeyed, and then gasped as David put down the camera and pulled her bikini bottoms off. She raised her head and Maya could see she was nervous.