St. Lucia Steam
"Volcanic spa owner Solange specializes in relaxation—but when stressed executive Brandon visits her Pitons retreat, she shows him tension release techniques not in any brochure."
The volcanic mud was supposed to be the highlight. Then Brandon met Solange.
She emerged from the steam like a goddess—thick, dark, glistening with mineral water. Her white wrap did nothing to hide those curves.
"Welcome to Pitons Wellness. I'm Solange. I'll be handling yuh personally."
He was already melting.
She led him through treatments he barely registered, too focused on her hands on his skin, her body close in the steam rooms.
"Yuh very tense," she observed, working his shoulders.
"Work stress."
"We fix that." Her hands moved lower. "I have special treatment. Very private."
"I'm interested."
The private room was candlelit, scented with ylang-ylang. She told him to lie down, stripped to her underwear—practical, she said—and began.
This wasn't massage. This was worship.
Her thick body slid over his, oiled skin against oiled skin, her curves pressing everywhere.
"Relax," she murmured. "Let Solange take care of yuh."
She took care of him thoroughly. That thick body moving over him like waves, volcanic heat nothing compared to what they generated together.
"Yes! There! Oh God, yes!"
Her moans echoed off the stone walls, mixing with the distant sound of the waterfall outside.
The treatment lasted hours. Brandon lost count of peaks, plateaus, releases.
"Feel better?" she asked after, their bodies tangled on the massage table.
"I feel reborn."
"Good." She kissed him softly. "Come back tomorrow. We do the full week package."
Brandon cancelled his return flight. Extended the retreat indefinitely.
Now he lives near Solange's spa, helps with the business, receives private treatments every night.
Stress? What stress?
St. Lucia healed him. Solange completed him.
The Pitons stand witness to their steam.