Meg and I decided on a quiet weekend away in the Catskills between holidays. The ad for a bucolic motel dressed like a huge cabin had the quiet appeal we wanted. Meg had to work a half day that sweltering mid-June Friday, so she would join me later. I booked the weekend and drove up after dinner on Thursday. Lucky room two was the only free room out of fifteen. The heavily wooded land felt too quiet. Ann was the forty+ owner. As the cheerful, boisterous type, I wondered how much peace I’d have.

A pretty, late thirties, redhead in a snug blue-white maid uniform with wide-open lapels just finished prepping my room. I couldn’t help staring at her pretty face, big tits, or obvious ass. As she apologized, I reached out to her name tag and pulled it while pulling her dress away from her mostly bared chest. I made it obvious that I was staring into her dress and at her braless nipple. Really nice tits. Love the nipples, I said to myself as I returned her tag and pressed it against a yielding tit. As my thumb circled her dense nipple, I said, “No reason to apologize, Angela. Call me Mike.” She didn’t object even as I winked and pinched her stiff nipple. She smiled in a sexy way, not embarrassed or annoyed, and leaned into my hand with a whispered moan.

About six p.m., I heard a crash behind the office followed by some arguing. The driver of a late delivery of Vermont maple syrup dropped the five-gallon glass jug. It broke and spilled $450 of sticky syrup behind seven rooms. He promised to replace the jug for free the next day and return with an extra-high-pressure washer to clean up the mess. That was the first domino to fall.

Ann kept a huge carpenter ant farm lining a high wall in the lobby. Apparently, the scent of the gourmet syrup drove the ants to a frenzy, and they escaped through the lobby overnight to feast on the golden meal. Second domino. By morning, the syrup reached all the rooms.

A knee-deep stream crossed behind the bungalows, then along the side of the office. I later learned that the decaying logs along part of the stream formed a shelter for the hoards of migrating red army ants as they traveled away from the recent rains. They detected the black ant prey and attacked. Third domino. They ate nearly all the black ants.

In the morning, my door opened, then I heard the knock. “Room service,” smiled Angela. “May I do you?” The clever choice of words amused me. As I was still in bed in just my black boxer-briefs, I rubbed my eyes and smiled back my consent. Due to an extra button opened in her uniform, I watched her big, swinging tits and tantalizing nipples appear as she bent. Angela slowly pulled my sheet off, then gasped. My morning tent wasn’t fully pitched yet, so I wondered what impressed her. “Sir. SIR. You are covered in red ants!” She started slapping my legs, belly, and arms.

I rolled out of bed and brushed off what I could. Angela picked some off my face, turned me, and slapped my back and legs. “They are all over,” she said. When she pulled my briefs away, she said, “They are in your underpants too.” She turned me back to her and pulled the front away. “Aie, they are in here too.” Before I could object, she pushed my briefs to the floor, and I stepped out of them ignoring my fully freed and inflated cock. She pinched several ants, rubbed more on my shaft, pulled back my foreskin, and pinched more ants. Several were biting or pinching my balls and under my pubes. “You will need to shower the rest off.”

As she marched me to the shower, I stopped and pointed to her arms. “Angela, you have them on you, too. Your arms and chest are getting more red.” I opened two more buttons on her dress and pushed it off her. As it fell to the floor, I swept her shoulders, neck, and braless chest. They were swarming her nipples. As I rubbed them off her, we both stepped on the fallen ants. Holding one big tit at a time, I squeezed and swept it as clean as I could before changing to the other mound. They would be irresistible without ants. Pinching nipples and resident ants made me imagine sucking her tall nipples after we showered — probably during. I looked into her panties without objection. They were crawling in and out of her pubes and around her slit. After pushing her panties off, I tossed them in the sink with mine for a later wash.

Kneeling, I squeezed her labia closed as I combed ants out of her dark, red, dense pubes. “I think I need to shave all this hair off. Lift your leg.” When her pussy gaped open, I rolled her lips open and looked inside her. “No ants got inside you yet. Turn and bend over.” I spread her cheeks and found one ant circling her tight rear hole. I pinched it. “Looks good back here, front too.”

She said, “Thanks, but what about the ants?” She smiled at me. I spread her cheeks again and rubbed her star hole. She bent farther and moaned. With no ants approaching it, I wet a finger in my mouth, then twisted it into her ass. She moaned louder.

“Cheeky. That’s a sample of what’s to come after we clean up, if you want.” I slowly twisted my finger out as she groaned. Taking a moment, I filled the sink with soapy water and sent the underwear ants down the drain.

“You know, Mike, I’ll have to shave your cock too, and I didn’t check your ass.” Taking the hint, I turned and bent. She gently spread my hairy cheeks, and I relaxed my round muscle. “We may need to shave all this hair too, and our heads.”