Heartbreak Hotel

Written by Trillie Pinkford

Chapter One: An Unrealized Conspiracy

At night, Floy Paynter is a slut, by day she turns into a pretentious female fox.

Raymond Dewberry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He couldn’t take his eyes off her half-naked body, and was certain that making himself stay seated on the edge of the bed was very pleasurable for her.

She began to slowly rub her bra, the tip of her tongue spitting out of her plump, rounded lips, licking lustfully across the tip and quickly retracting it.

There was no doubt that she was quite sophisticated in this area and had a knack for teasing men. He was mesmerized at how many men she had performed in front of before.

He unzipped the zipper on his pants, and his erection, swollen with excitement, popped out at once.

She reached behind her back. The hooks loosened and the bra’s halter dangled, but she didn’t quite let it fall off, instead using one hand to hold it down at one point of her cleavage, the bowl-shaped bra thesis hitching. It seemed she didn’t want him to see those titillating breasts, which were covered only by a thin layer of black silk. ……

She turned her back, naked from the waist up. She shook her head, her dark, lustrous hair skillfully spread over her slender shoulders. He wanted to reach out his arms, wrap them around that high-footed waist and bury his mouth in her neck. He wanted to smell her scent, to touch his lips to that smooth, delicate skin. He wanted to thrust his hands under her arms, slide them up and rub them along with her bra, caressing those firm, quivering breasts.

His fingers twitched, holding her nipple between his index and forefinger and rubbing and pinching what must have been an extraordinary turn-on.

He also longed to take the firm nipples clustered in pale red areolas into his mouth.

She hooked her bra with her long forefingers, swung it a few times, and slowly tossed it to the carpet. Her breasts were now fully exposed, but his view was blocked. A strong desire arose in him to grab her and turn her toward him, yet there was nothing he could do.

Now her hands rested on the smoothly curved waistline and moved downward. With slender fingers she undid the belt and pulled the short skirt off, each movement teasing and seductive.

Then she stood up and crossed her thighs, her narrow black panties wrapped tightly around her plump ass, each flap so round and well-proportioned. There was a pocketed bulge between them. As she bent over to pull on her short skirt, he saw that bulge. Its bulging, lip-shaped thong showed between her legs, a few curly pubic hairs leaking out beside it. He gasped violently, his temples bulging, his erection even harder than before, almost ready to ejaculate.

She turned to the dresser, picked up a hair tie, and lifted her arms sideways, holding her hair back. One of her breasts looked fuller and shapelier in the light of the dresser lamp. He stared intently at the two erect nipples reflected in the mirror. She glanced his way, no doubt ignoring his presence, and she seemed fully aroused and ready to fuck. She guffawed and turned off the house lights. He sat alone, sighing.

Yes, Floy Pester is such a slut and a cunning fox. And what’s worse, he’s incredibly in love with her.

The breakfast room was very crowded, with only one reserved dining table free. It stood alone and took up an entire reddish-brown window.

When a stunning brunette walked into the restaurant, all heads craned to her and the buzz of whispers fell silent.

Her steps were light, dainty and quick, her bearing elegant and dignified. She enters graciously, like a heroine in an opera, and walks out in all her glory at the repeated invitation of the audience. Now she came to the center of the hall, where her audience waited for her to sit down.

Froi smiled, she liked the feeling of superiority.

“Good morning, Miss Painter.”

When the young to-be in the white uniform pulled the sub out of this only vacant table, Froi smiled lightly at him. He waited for her to sit down and righted the sub under his shirt. She eyed him closely. He appeared a little rattled where he stood as she watched. Perhaps he was mesmerized or scared and didn’t turn away right away he stood to the side of the table waiting for her reaction.

She was so charming, her hair brushed back casually and draped over her pink in pistil-like skin. Her satin skin was flawless, made even more so by her dark hair. She looked a little old-fashioned in that fashion, perhaps it was more appropriate for a woman in her thirties. What a no-nonsense woman, he thought darkly.

She was still stoically looking out the window.

She teasingly reached out with her tongue, licking up the white cheese smeared on her lips, and quickly retracted it again. His lower body twitched and Ramon inhaled deeply, still aroused by everything from last night.

He waited.

She lifted her head.

He smiled.

She remained expressionless.

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Dewberry, I’m very pleased.” She glanced at the letter on the tray, “This is mine?”

She asked, slightly surprised, as she did every morning. Didn’t seem to be expecting so many readers to write in.

Amazed why they were writing to her. It was so hypocritical, and Foggy Pester must have loved the extreme admiration of others so much inside that he wanted to say so.

Ramon roughly estimated the number of letters.

“Pretty much as usual.”

He stared intently into her eyes, managing to cross those haughty eyes and get close to her, trying to talk to her about the sex games that happened every night.

She was reticent.

Floy looked up at the young hotel manager. In fact, she had spied Ramon long ago while talking to the bellhop. Dewberry stopped by the door. His eyes lingered on her face, trying to pick up some clues. She showed nothing. She was trying to control him, and now, of course, she couldn’t let him; he would go through with it and do his best to fight it.

Now he stood aside, keeping a proper distance.

She traced the patrol over his face, judging with a writer’s characteristic train of thought.

He fit the bill for her. As luck would have it, there hadn’t been a man more suitable than him in months of searching.

He is gentle and full of confidence and masculinity. He looked like he was of Italian descent, with a dark complexion, a straight nose, a frank face, and full, angular lips. When he gazed at her, his lips were moist and slightly pouting.

No doubt he was imagining kissing her.

It looked like he was full of lust, causing her temples to quiver in disbelief, and every time she thought of him standing in front of the window, completely naked and without a care in the world, her mid-thighs stirred with it.

His deep gaze watched her every subtle movement with such affection that she knew his eyes wanted to search for what she couldn’t give.

In a moment, she thought again of his bare, bronzed, smooth and taut torso with its toned limbs. It was overflowing with masculine virility, virile, erect, and full of vigor.

It was burned into her mind, and there was no need to pry into it later.

She collected her rushing thoughts and averted her gaze from his crotch, “Please leave the letter on the table, I’ll read it later.”

He did so immediately, and in her heart she knew what else he wanted to do.

Noticing that he was still there, she glanced up with her eyes again, “Hmm?”

He squeaked, like a schoolboy, his usual confidence gone, “I ……”

“What?”

“I want to talk to you.”

Feeling a little surprised, Froi smiled haughtily, “Talk about what?”

“I’d like to talk to you alone, if you’re free.”

She smiled in relief and raised an eyebrow in a slightly teasing manner, “To talk to me about what? –My bill?”

He looked at her sleepily, “Oh no, no, I want to talk about last night, and the three nights before that.”

Floy picked up his lemon tea and sipped it slowly. All eyes in the restaurant were on them, ears perked up, trying to hear as much as possible of the content of their intermittent whispered conversation.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Dewberry.” She put away the letter, “But I have to go. I have a presentation at ten-thirty that I need to prepare for. May I ask if you have already gone ahead and made the arrangements I requested?”

“Of course, it’s been done as you ordered,” Jed “The hall is set up, and we’ll bring the coffee at ten o’clock sharp.”

“Thank you, Mr. Dewberry, you’re so efficient at what you do.”

Ramon didn’t want the accolades. He wanted to serve her alone, catering to her every sudden whim. He was going to watch her strip naked and then suck her breasts with his lips before thrusting hard into her with his cock, which was like a gun, pressed firmly against her lower body. He was going to take her to Elysium with his fingers and his man-root, so that she would indulge in making love to him with unbelievable intensity, and would miss him as if he were thirsty and hungry once he was gone.

Floy stood up and straightened his shirt with his hands, then gently wiped his mouth with the monogrammed napkin before giving it her to Ramon. The napkin fluttered against, like a bra tossed down every night, and landed in Ramon’s open hand.

“I’d like to take the pearl necklace from the safe.”

Ramon pulled her chair back a bit, “Sure, want me to send it to the room?”

Floy turned to him, her eyes locked on his face as the smell of a freshly repaired face scurried into her nostrils.

For an instant she saw in his eyes a look that seemed familiar, like that of a couple just strolling on the lawn gazing at each other. She strained her lips, and a cold, unfeeling gaze shot from her eyes, and the glimmer of hope that had flickered in Raymond Dewberry’s eyes was extinguished, and replaced by tears that were about to come to his eyes.

“No, I’ll come to your office.”

He arched his back slightly, letting her go first. She stepped back.

“I’ll come over when I’m ready.” It was effectively an expulsion sentence, which each of them understood in their own minds.

He owed it again and turned to go. The tense air in the restaurant released.

“Have John meet me.” He frowned unhappily, putting down the phone that led into the kitchen and pacing back and forth in his office.

More than an hour had passed since he had seen Floy Paynter in the morning. As usual, he had been teased by her again.

John walked in, his face pale and frightened. John narrowed his eyes at his face.

“Why did you spend so much time at Miss Pester’s table in the morning? There were obviously other guests to look after.”

The young man dropped his eyes, “She’s the one who kept me waiting, Mr. Dewberry. I wanted to leave right away, I swear. But she kept staring at me with strange eyes.”

“Which eyes?”

“She kept staring at my face and looking at my crotch while asking me questions that were hard to theorize.”

“What’s wrong?”

“She asked what I do for a living and ……”

“What else?”

He shook his head, “Nothing.”

“All right, you can go. But don’t let me see you killing time in the cafeteria again. Is that clear?”

The young man hurried out.

John felt even more nervous, what did Floy Paynter want?

A figure appeared in the doorway, causing him to look up.

“Ramon, your coffee.”

He shifted his gaze to the beautiful young lady in the doorway.

“It should be called Mr. Dewberry!” He yelled.

She snorted and put the coffee tray down on the table with a ‘barf’.

“Aaah! Too much sex, huh? What’s the matter, honey?”

Normally, Ramon would never talk to his staff like this. But Jenny was different, they knew each other.

In public, she keeps her distance from him, but in private, she is willing to spend the night with him.

He gave her a pitying look, “I’m sorry, Jenny. My mind is a mess.”

She craned her head to see if anyone had overheard, then rubbed her slender hand against his cheek, her fingertips sliding down the smooth skin to his jawline.

“Is it because of that Paynter woman?”

As he looked at the petite blonde, the girl was actually very intelligent. He turned to the thought that some women were unusually sensitive to their lovers’ every move once their position in bed was threatened.

Instead of answering, he took her lower jaw in his fingers and lifted her face, placing a soft, loving, lustful kiss on her lips as she closed her eyes.

“How intoxicating!”

The eyes of both men looked toward the door in unison.

“Oh, it’s Ms. Painter. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were there.” He quickly scanned downward and looked back up at her.

“Of course Ro, you must not have seen that I’m going to get my pearls if you guys are done.”

A flash of annoyance flickered in Floy Paynter’s gaze. Ramon detected it, but it was fleeting, as if turned off like a faucet. Yet vaguely this resentment could still be felt in her, it was amplified by the red jacket coat and plain white shirt she wore.

Her black hair was glorious against the red and white, but her mind would never be more dramatic.

Jenny greeted the esteemed guest politely. She left in a hurry, and as she passed her “rival”

The doubts in his mind were still not removed when he was beside himself.

Floy Paynter twisted her face away, and Ramon’s breath sprayed on her cheeks. Her breasts rose and fell smoothly under her open jacket, her nipples faintly visible through the very thin shirt; she wasn’t wearing a bra.

Floy stood motionless in the doorway, she didn’t want to say anything more than the many words that quickly flashed through her mind as Ramon opened the safe. Caught in the act of adultery? This was too serious, they were only kissing, not doing that, but had his hands been on her bare breasts or smoothing her shirt up and.

She cast the distractions aside; now was not the time, later, there would be time to sit at the typewriter and slowly embellish.

“Which box did the pearls come in, Miss Painter?”

She caught his eyes on her breasts, and he saw that she was paying attention to her, and hurriedly dropped his eyes timidly. She smiled and with a hint of cruelty pushed her breasts higher, making the nipples under her silk shirt even more visible, they stood proudly erect as a warm current of arousal traveled to her nub.

His eyes caught another glimpse of her arousal when she had let herself go naked on him last night, and the sensation of arousal and tumultuousness that came with such indulgence had become more and more difficult to bear. Her nipples were perched, waiting to be sucked, and her sensual center was beginning to whimper wetly again. She gave a quick fat glance toward the base of his thighs, the bulge and bump already proving that he was being teased.

It was so much fun for her to stimulate him and incite his lust.

Now her bottom was wet with love juice and she had to go back and change her panties.

“Oh, Mr. Dewberry, do you really know which box the pearls are in? In the white one. The diamond necklace and earrings are in the blue box, and the emerald brooch is in the green gold that says ‘Tiffany’ in gold letters.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Painter, most of my guests don’t have as much jewelry as you do.”

It was the second time today that he had said “I’m sorry”, and it seemed to be a bit out of character for him, as he became obsequious. This was neither his character nor the role she expected. She needed a strong man, a man with the power to conquer, not like him. Though, she had put in the effort, he was still not up to the task. Perhaps the boy would be stronger.

“Miss Painter, it’s all here.”

“Help me put it on.”

Ramon took the pearl necklace out of the white leather box. His hands began to shiver unceasingly as he took a deep breath, trying to stabilize himself. Partly out of exasperation that she had treated him in such a manner, and partly to ease his thirst for her.

He wanted to show her who was the boss, and if she hadn’t been such a special guest, he would have gone and closed the door behind her, received her at the table, indulged her, and so on. She wanted to be fondled as well, it was all plain to see, though she worked hard to do nothing more than try to hide that. It was part of her little trick, and it was nothing more than a little trick for her to live in his hotel and to irritate him constantly every day.

Also, he had to ask her if they were both playing crazy cat and mouse tricks or not.

This strand of pearls is quite exquisite, a strand of pure natural pearls, connected by size. Knotted with a clasp, a large hemispherical pearl was centered with a polished diamond. They must be worth a fortune, Raymond thought.

She turned her back to him, just as she had done at night when she had removed her bra, and a wave of excitement traveled through him. Today her hair was pulled upward, exposing her slender neck just enough for him to wear it. He exhaled and proceeded to put the pearls on her. Once looped, she sniffed the precious strand. It gave off a strong hint of musky fragrance, but it couldn’t disguise her unique scent, which was faint but unusually pronounced on a man’s nose.

He realized that her thighs must be hot, and that her teasing little tricks would constantly arouse him. The odor was a signal to his prick, a further reminder that he felt her presence, and she was well aware of having driven him wild again.

It was a slender neck, long and graceful, bending in soft curves that extended down to outline slightly tilted shoulders that he so impulsively wanted to kiss. But it was impossible; she was a guest and in his office, and he was the owner and operator of this unusual hotel. What would the other guests think if they bumped into her?

“What are you waiting for, hey!” He shook his head, “Sorry, I …… I’m looking for a hitch.”

“Hurry up! My guests will be here soon!”

“Okay, Ms. Painter.”

Ramon was a little nervous, clumsily putting on the necklace. It was inevitable that his hand would touch her skin, cold, as if he should let it warm up.

He finally slipped the necklace around her neck and kept them in place. There was a tingling sensation in his fingertips, as if he’d been struck by an electric current.

She turned, looked in the mirror, and then left, not a word of thanks showing on her lips.

Ramon pushed the box open, checked to see if the diamond necklace and the emerald brooch were still there, and then locked it into the safe, twisting it a few more times by hand to see if it was securely locked.

Sitting in a hall paved with green marble and furnished with gilded furniture, Floy felt like a queen.

The large crystal chandelier in the shape of a chandelier streamed with light, shining brightly and illuminating the hall. Gold-plated chandelier that yellow steel bracket inlaid with emerald. This is really a splendid hotel, in the architectural style of French more than English.

The entire staff at the hotel, including blonde Jenny, stood neatly waiting, ready to serve coffee to the list of guests who had come for the launch of the publication of Floy’s latest novel.

Floy coldly surveyed Jenny. She was indeed beautiful. With her beautifully curved breasts and slender waistline, pouting lips like an old-fashioned whore, and wearing a sheath dress that looked too short for such an elegant store, with a large portion of her pale, well-proportioned thighs peeking out from underneath the hemline, Floyd could imagine the temptation her flesh must have held for any man when she was naked. But it was not a good match for Raymond Dewberry; he needed the kind of woman who was elegant and skillful, well-educated, with great taste and refinement, but this girl was none of those things.

Froy sat idly waiting while her publisher’s assistants worked on the last few details, reviewing the plot and proofs of the book, titled The Unattainable Conspiracy. It was one of the best books she had ever written, with an intricate, suspenseful plot that was sure to delight readers who had enjoyed her over the years. The TV rights had been sold and that would bring her millions of viewers and millions of British pounds in revenue and so on. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

A stack of books with gold dust printed on the covers had been placed there, waiting to be signed.

“Is everything in order, Miss Painter?” Floy looked up.

Raymond Duberry’s brown eyes were staring directly at her, and she felt a little flustered for a moment; she had not realized that he was coming, and was not prepared for his presence; her heart gave a few “thumps” and then returned to its original state. She stabilized herself and composed herself.

He was very handsome indeed, with his short cut black hair neatly and decently combed to the left, not a stray strand on his high, broad forehead, and a Mediterranean appearance that attested to his frequent sunbathing.

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Dewberry, everything is all right.”

She said with intentional haste, wanting to abort the conversation between the two: she had a lot of work to do, and Froy was going to release a story for herself and for the booksellers who would be arriving soon about the latest, stimulating developments in her own writing over the course of the year.

There was an embarrassing silence as he picked up a copy of The Unattainable Conspiracy, “May I see it?”

She shrugged, “Sure.”

He stood close to the table and roughly flipped through the book. Floy took the opportunity to fat a glance at the approaching crotch, and she felt that she had become a voyeur. Her experiences over the past few days since arriving at the Duberry had caused her to take a growing liking to observing the bulges in the crotches of all the young men in the hotel. She knew what Ramon had in there, she’d seen the thing erect, but when it wasn’t impulsive, when it wasn’t in gear, it slipped away somewhere, and that appealed to her.

Now, the bulge in Raymond Dewberry’s pants was barely noticeable; perhaps he was restraining his male instincts, releasing them only at night. But in the office, when she’d stimulated him in that way, a straight, long bulge had been obvious.

The image of a hot, naked prick floating before her eyes made her shudder.

“You know, I’ve read all your books.”

In fact, he had already captured her look and deliberately looked at the book in front of her for a while, and after a few minutes she tilted her head, her facial distress gone.

She was surprised that he had read her books; in her opinion, the series was not suitable for a man of twenty-five or six. If he had read them, she thought, he would have indulged in these casual, feminine books, but she would have preferred that a masculine man such as this read some of the popular magazines with nude women, rather than these suspense novels.

She was quite excited, though, and a small smile swept across her lips. He took it as encouragement.

“I think your detective, Sister Lugar, trumps Ms. Maple. It is wonderful that you have molded such a nun. She has a unique way of judging life as well as crime, and her worldview is quite different from that of the average woman. Of course, Miss Marple has some of the strange and hostile nature of the spinster in her, but then again she can approach difficult problems with a worldly perspective. How could Sister Luke have those worldly experiences?”

Floy kept watching him silently, his mind constantly pondering how to answer his question.

“Actually, nuns don’t have to stay in a convent, see? Some orders need to work for the welfare of the community.”

“Of course, I …… am merely a little curious, I mean to say that she has produced such a brilliant detective.”

He was back to his coy demeanor. Damn! She wished he would return to himself. If he’d asked a question or rebutted her more directly, he might have won her over. If he’d made her undress and lie on the bed, I’m afraid it would have been a different story. She knew that all men changed once their pants were off. On the contrary, he felt that the rebuttal was too strong, and he sensed that she was suppressing her irritation, and it was difficult for a person like her to tolerate accusations against her, was it because he was the owner of the hotel that he was being modest?

“Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Dewberry, I’m glad.”

“Will you sign this book for me? Sure, I’ll buy it.”

She waved her hand with a dismissive look, “That won’t be necessary.”

She sighed and looked up again. He had become a confidant now, a far cry from what she had known earlier. She would have preferred him to be a proud and conceited man rather than one of her readers, which might have been a better fit.

Floy is lying in bed. It had been a stressful and hectic day, but also very successful. The last bookseller had left at four o’clock and now she needed to relax.

Ringing the room service bell, John came over.

“Bringing me a cup of tea and some cream cakes.”

John promised with shyness. She turned to the phone with a smile and put it down.

As tired as she was, she couldn’t rest, the sounds that kept coming from the next room were too appealing. The door to the suite near the foot of the bed was closed, but it couldn’t stop the constant, seductive sounds coming from the honeymoon suite.

She got up, went to the door, and, bursting for breath, held on to the door-rule and tried to look in through the crack. But there was not a single crack in the door, only a tiny keyhole, and when she looked in, she saw only the far wall.

The moans, screams of excitement, cries of forgetfulness, and rhythmic fluttering of her mind were mesmerizing; they were so seductive and more than stimulating. She began to speculate, her body trembling with the imagined images.

But it was conjecture after all, she hadn’t seen any lovemaking, she’d never imagined before coming here that anyone would be making love day and night like these two lovebirds, she had to see for herself, what was it that made them so giddy to be making love day and night?

Floy felt deeply alone and longed to be shared in her rapidly tidal wave of lust. But earlier she hadn’t thought about that.

The growing fire of lust was too much for her to bear, and the stirring that had been a regular feature of her thighs for years came back from between her legs, and even though she tried her best to hold it down, the stirring that frightened her became more and more impassioned.

It was clear to her that it was a woman craving to be caressed and satisfied. Not only that, but she craved to be held down powerfully, pressed tightly against her body with a slavish approach.

Her whole being was filled with rebellion. Though she carried a cold mask every day, while her thoughts and voice had become more and more indulgent. That hadn’t happened before, and what would happen to everything if she lost control?

A soft knock on the door brought her back to her normal self, and she said haughtily, “Come in.”

John walked in and stood oiled in the living room as she watched him from her side of the bedroom door.

“Come in.”

He walked to the bedroom door, looking a little rattled. She gestured with her hand and stared straight at him from the bedroom.

“Put it on the dresser. Pour me a cup of tea with some milk.”

He obliged without a word. She smiled kindly at him as he stood there, tea in hand.

“Don’t be afraid, boy. It’s not like I’m going to eat you up.”

She snickered. But as it stood, there was a real possibility of that, and perhaps even sucking on the part of his body that was most tempting to her, something many people did on a regular basis.

He walked two feet away from her and handed her the tea. She put the teacup on the table next to her and softened him by saying, “How much fresh water do you take, John?”

“One hundred English pounds, meals all inclusive, ma’am.”

She frowned a little, “Not really.”

He argued with slight pride, “But I’m still being trained! Mr. Raymond, that’s Mr. Duberry is teaching me hotel management.”

Floy released a smile, “Would you be happy to earn a week’s pay tonight?”

He looked at her with wide, confused eyes, “I wouldn’t do anything improper, ma’am.”

She nodded heartily and inappropriately, “Oh, I won’t let you go and do anything bad.” She walked over to the drawer and removed from it some fifty pound bills that seemed to have been placed there specifically waiting for this opportunity. She drew out two of them, and going far enough to hear his heart beat stopped and handed him the money.

She lowered her voice and said, “Take it and send back some cocoa. Bring the set of keys that lead to this door.”

His eyes widened again, “But ……”

She accused him with a slender hand on his lips, telling him to say no more. Then she was so captivated by the young man’s sensuous lips that he shuddered uncontrollably.

Her fingertips slid over baby-smooth cheeks and up his neck, pulling him toward her. His eyes widened, and she pressed her face to his, inhaling deeply through his blonde hair; he smelled so good: sexy, fresh, and healthy.

He was trembling all over. She pulled him to her and scrutinized him, “Why are you so afraid of me, John?”

He lowered his eyelashes, “That’s not allowed, ma’am.”

She lifted his lower jaw with her fingers and he had to look at her squarely, “Not allowed to what?”

“Mr. Dewberry says we’re not allowed to be in the same …… same …….”

She asked in a whisper, “The same what? Young people?”

He tried hard to look away, but she squeezed and wiggled his jaw tightly.

“We’re not allowed to mess around, ma’am.”

“You mean messing around with the same guests?”

He nodded.

“But who will go and tell? Did you ever run to Mr. Dewberry and tell him?”

He rubbed the fifty pound bill in his hand and shook his head.

“Then why are you still so worried about it?”

He shook his head again.

“Don’t I turn you on?”

Now he gazed at her with watery eyes, but said nothing.

Floy wanted answers. It seemed unlikely that she would let him go before she knew.

Her hands continued to creep downward, one still holding his lower jaw while the other was already exploring underneath. Her fingers reached between his thighs, realizing that it wasn’t as big as she thought it would be.

“Excuse me, ma’am, I …… have to go.”

She gestured for him to be quiet and used her hand to straighten back the tangle of hair on his forehead, her other hand still tightly over his warm, ripe bulge. Her heart was beating violently, and she wanted to pull the chain of her pants away and hold it tightly in her bare hands, and her lips wanted to press against his vibrant lips to feel the taste of his mouth.

She was shaking all over.

Suddenly, he shook her off violently and stepped back, fear in his eyes. His fist was still ingesting the bill, still rubbing it. Floy shook another, and the young man’s eyes twinkled, glanced quickly at the bill, then twisted his head toward her face.

“Don’t forget my cocoa tonight. Have it delivered exactly at midnight, bring that lockpick, and I’ll give you this one for your reward.”

Ramon sat carelessly in the manager’s chair in his office. It was half past eleven and all the staff had gone home or to their rooms. Most of the guests were older, wealthy people who were used to living comfortably and liked to go to bed early, and those in the honeymoon suite went to bed so early that they were usually hard to see before midnight.

The night watchman was temporarily absent tonight and young John came in his place. The time is now just when Floy Paynter usually comes in.

By her own habit, she had developed this routine. First thing in the morning the jewelry was taken from the safe first thing. Then, in the evening, she would come down and ask him to lock them up again. She would stay a while before leaving, and, when she was ready to go back to her suite, she would leave a few meaningful words.

Instantly, the evening’s routine is about to begin. And all the things she had to fulfill changed, just for him?

He looked at the signed page of his book: to Raymond Dewberry – the faithful and dutiful servant Floy.

Painter.

Ramon mulled over the inscription, which meant more than any of the words. Floy Paynter arrived, just at her usual time, and Ramon’s heart thumped.

As usual, she was wearing a white hotel yukata, tied loosely in a knot in the front, and he could catch a glimpse of the black bra inside. She had her hair down and looked a few years younger than her actual age.

“Good night, Dewberry. I want you to put the necklace in the safe; will you undo the clasp for me?”

“Sure.” He stood up and walked behind her. His hands shook again as he started to undo the buckle. Her skin was very warm, damp with post-bath moisture, and still fragrant with the scent of bath soap. It was an intoxicating odor, strong and intense, and it carried an unusual tingle that sent a wave of vertigo through him. Every night like this was like an aphrodisiac that turned him on. The first couple of nights, when he undid her necklace, it always created an urge as if she had stripped down to nothing and was standing in front of him.

Before turning to her, Ramon readjusted his erection, hard and long and quivering in his pants.

Covering it up was part of the convention: it seemed that covering up what was not revealed, and not letting the other person notice it, was part of the trick. Ramon was trying desperately to restrain himself now.

In fact, normally whenever he had to make love to a woman, he was always in control of the situation, but with this woman, he lost that edge. Anytime, anywhere, whenever she needed it, she had him, and he was completely mesmerized by her.

And, far more, she had taken control of every move in this strange relationship between the two of them. Perhaps that was why she excited and thrilled him; she was a challenger and he had to find a way to control her completely. One way or another, he was going to conquer this woman, and he was going to have to keep her here for three weeks to accomplish it.

“Have you read the book?”

She nodded and gestured toward the book that had been signed for him, which lay closed on his desk.

This was different than usual, normally she wouldn’t chat, she would just be polite and courteous for a few moments, then it was hinted at, then left. Tonight it was as if something unusual could be shrouded around her.

“I have read the first chapter.”

He wondered a little, staring into her eyes, obviously she wanted more from him.

“I find it quite fascinating.”

She raised one eyebrow, “Is that all?”

A few moments later, he sensed her weakness for compliments, and he wanted to capitalize on it, “I think the plot is unique, too.”

A blush spread across her face and he caught the flash of joy in her eyes, “I’m glad you like my work.”

She pouted slightly at the tip of her lips, and he leapt to his feet.

“I do appreciate it very much, but I’m not the only one, there are thousands of your loyal readers in this world.”

She smiled at him in relief, which flattered Ramon. It was the first time she’d smiled from the heart, a genuine warm smile, since she’d stayed at the hotel. She was swirling with youthful energy and innate sensuality, and the woman used that appropriately, forgetting her plans for a moment. After a few moments, the calm, cold expression had passed away.

“Yeah, and thousands of readers!” She broke into a smile again.

This time her smile was as beautiful as an innocent girl’s, and she was definitely older than him. As he had seen constantly over the previous three nights her physique appeared trim and slim, like a model. But much more than that, when he first spied her half-naked body, it almost made him stop breathing, with its deep, oval belly button, full, well-proportioned hips, feminine thighs that stood up straight, and a slender waist with smooth curves.

She dropped her eyelids shyly, which was not her norm.

At this moment, there is again an embarrassing silence, the kind of silence that only occurs when a man and a woman need each other, but are unable to understand each other’s state of mind, the atmosphere of indecision. Each other are thirsty for caresses, kisses, embraces and careful exploration, but are afraid of being rejected by the other side, so they do not dare to act rashly.

“Were you satisfied with the buffet at the launch?”

“Excellent, you are indeed very thoughtful.”

This time, it sounded more tangible than the previous time.

“What’s your next production?”

She shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t think there’s any other work topics to write about yet.”

Ramon was full of questions, “A prolific writer like you shouldn’t have any difficulties, should you?”

She laughed heartily, “You’re so encouraging, Dewberry, in that case I’ll tell you a secret, but you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

She tilted her body slightly and they stood face to face, a pleasant glint in her eyes. He hadn’t known she was going to quit drinking, originally she was very alcoholic and often drunk. It was probably down to an appreciation of her, and all her actions this evening could be a sign that she was going to take further action.

Ramon leaned forward, not wanting to pass up such a great opportunity. She couldn’t help but lean herself toward him as well. Ramon whispered wryly, “I promise not to tell anyone.”

“The book will appear like a new look, and the publisher wants me to incorporate something completely new.”

“What is it about?” Ramon was a little excited, he was aiming for exactly that, he was going to get full satisfaction from that firm rod.

“I’m going to completely change my writing style.” He realized her eyes were so deep and sparkling.

She said with trust, “Sex!”

The softly voiced, startling whisper made her lips more forceful. Ramon stiffened, “Sex?”

“It’s good that it’s about the depiction of sex. The publishers thought that including sex would have more readers.

Although the book would be a bit racy this way, it is also shrouded in mystery. What do you think?”

Ramon was taken aback, and then quickly calmed down. Sex was a topic he’d been wanting to talk about all night, and one he was used to.

“I think your publisher is wise.”

She smiled cheerfully, “I’m glad you’re in favor of that suggestion as well. It’s getting late and I need to get to bed, don’t you?” She glanced at him theatrically as she said “to bed”.

Chapter Two: A Wonderful Game

Floy lingered a little longer in Raymond Dewberry’s office. Today’s encounter with the boy still felt throbbing in her body, her blood boiling with the tremors in her temples. The sensual center between her thighs veered into lust again, and her labia began to fill with blood, becoming sensitive and wet.

She felt her clitoris protruding like a bud, seeming to burst through the very thin silk panties she wore. Her legs were supporting her body in the ruling robe. Her breasts rose and fell sharply up and down, causing her thighs to feel the slight quivering of the robe.

She knew a stirring was beginning inside her, and stood a little adrift in front of Raymond Dubbert’s End. Her eyes sparkled with an unusual brilliance. As soon as he took the initiative to pull away from the beckoning embrace, his hand could reach in unimpeded.

But he didn’t move. He was going to be a cultured possessor.

The piece of him was obvious, just a reach away for a change of touch, just as she’d gone to mold Little John.

But she didn’t move either. Dewberry was a mature man, not an inexperienced young man. And it was too bright here, too, and in public. It might be better in her room, safe, not too bright, and with an extremely comfortable bed.

Ramon smiled a little uneasily, obviously knowing that expecting him to matter could not yet be determined.

“Would you like a drink?”

She smiled and shook her head.

“Thanks, I got myself ready. Got to go now, you know I have my own habits.”

He knew. He’d noticed from a week already the same pattern of her every night.

One hand on the door handle, she turned and added, “I go to bed at the same time every night and get up at the same time in the morning, usually five o’clock. In the morning, I usually work, then go for a walk. In the evening, I’ll work until ten o’clock, then I’ll take a shower, and I’ll come over to your place. By the way. Put the jewelry away.” She added, as if she had just remembered.

He was certainly aware of all this. Ever since Floy Paynter had stayed at the hotel, he had been watching her every move. He had a hard time getting her out of his thoughts every moment.

He watched her as best he could, every second of every day. Whenever he saw her walking through the park after lunch, he wanted to chase after her and accompany her into the forest. To stir up in her the lust that made his heart sing in that reclaimed land. He wanted to pretend to be the god of the forest, a male elf from a Grimm’s fairy tale, and push his twelve-inch prick into the deepest recesses of her body, and he wanted to appear suddenly behind her, pin her to the grass before she could resist, make love to her hard and fast, and then, like a ghost, slowly disappear into the forest.

“Good night, Dewberry, and thank you again.” She then left the office and walked through the marble passageway and up the opposite staircase.

Ramon followed and locked the office, going to check the kitchen where John was still there.

“What are you doing, John?”

The young man gave him a jittery look ……

“I’m preparing coffee for a guest, Mr. Dewberry.”

He waved a hand at John to say goodnight and walked briskly up the stairs.

Ramon sat on the edge of the bed, his mind ragged as he stroked the gold cross around his neck. Eyes fixed on the half-naked woman in the window across the room, motionless.

From the time he went upstairs, Floy Paynter was going through his routine routine again. Only tonight it seemed particularly slow, yet more seductive.

Slipping on the robe of tears. Stood in front of the dresser for a moment, then walked away again. She had glanced at him a few moments ago, apparently convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had been looking at her intently.

She let her black hair fall over her shoulders like a waterfall, casually commenting on it and holding her head back in a high do.

She then stood facing him and undid her robe, revealing the delicate lace-encrusted black bra inside.

Plump breasts bulged the bra. Still wearing the extremely thin village skirt as usual, this time she didn’t pretend to be serious about avoiding his eyes when she took it off.

Now she stood in front of the open window, wearing only her town lace panties and bra, and brushing her hair slowly and methodically. She looked right at him, not moving, not even shying away from his presence.

He shifted his gaze to the V between her legs and whistled under his breath. Tonight she wore a tight pair of boxers, her thick, dark pubic hair hidden in the fine lace labor.

Raymond didn’t feel criminal or like a voyeuristic Tom. He was just admiring her and she was putting on a show for him. They both had it in their minds.

In addition to these reasons, the important thing is that he is very obsessed with her, this point even he himself can not believe. He can get any woman anytime, anywhere, and that’s the truth …… but the woman he’s obsessed with in front of him is Floy Paynter. Unbelievable, but true.

A narrow patio separated them. She undressed blithely in her room, as if the space separating them didn’t matter to her.

But it was like a barrier to him. He could only admire it but not touch it, and his nerves were on the verge of collapsing.

It was obvious that this was exactly what she was trying to do, and it almost drove him crazy. Especially when she treated him with indifference during the day, yet became tender at midnight, she was such a vixen. She watched silently with eyes that made him think. The same eyes that had caught his attention when she first came to the desk. The instant their eyes met, it was like a strong electric current traveling throughout his body. Needless to say she sensed it. His heart raced and his hands trembled as he fell deeply in love.

Then she looked at him haughtily for a limited time and lowered the blinds. Trying to block his view. She had been undressing in front of this business within his sight since the first night she had lived in. First she had to let him know she was in bed when she saw him, then, before undressing, give him enough time to get back to his room. All this was unspeakable. This lack of defense had been thought through three times and was not as simple as stealing from a keyhole.

Tonight her behavior seemed bolder, more obvious. Maybe it was to make up for the small lack of it back at the office.

But why did she do it? What was the purpose?

She rubbed her hands over her breasts, reaching into her bra with a teasing touch, holding and stroking them upward. Thumb and forefinger held the nipple, rubbing and pinching.

Ramon couldn’t resist unzipping his pants, unknowingly removing them, and his hard, erect cock sprang out as if it were on a spring.

She turned away suddenly, like something had diverted her attention. She was saying something.

Who she was talking to.

John appeared in Floy’s bedroom with a tray and Ramon felt the blood rush to his temples. This slut! That was exactly what she’d been muttering over and over at breakfast. Now he understood why she had refused to have a glass of wine earlier, so she had an arrangement with this young man. Fuck! This bitch really deserves human hell!

Floy sat on a stool and brushed his hair. She didn’t close the blinds. What’s the point? It turned out that she was trying to observe how Duberdon would react. Would he be jealous? Would he throw a fit in his room. And wait until morning to throw her or the boy out of the hotel? Or would he come into her room, give her a sharp rebuke, and then leave? Or would he throw the boy out of her room, and then be violent with her because he was jealous of her and in love with the boy?

Up to now she was not sure how things would turn out. The adventurous nature of this plan was that it would inspire her in a way she had never been inspired before. The stool was wet with her love juices from her excitement as she faced a fearful nineteen year old boy with a tray in front of her.

“Did you bring the key?”

He looked at her apprehensively. Floyd smiled wryly. Apparently he had seen his boss in the dimly lit window across the street, and if the boy had been sober, he would have realized that his life had been disrupted.

“I …… I brought it, ma’am.”

“That’s good.” She held out her hand. “Give it to me.” She gestured with the end of her finger.

He stepped over cautiously. Eyes darted over her bra and panties, picked them up, and twisted away from the danger.

“Put the plate down.” Floy said kindly. He couldn’t stop shaking. If she was going to have him. Gotta sedate him first.

He put the plate on the dresser and handed the key over farther.

She grabbed his fingers as she picked up the key and pulled him through. He struggled hard, but she pulled tighter.

“You don’t want a tip?”

His eyes glanced toward the fifty pound bill sitting on the dresser and nodded.

“That’s good.” She said softly. “Come over here.”

He walked over to her and stood beside the stool, her bare thighs on either side of his body. She took his hands that hung at his sides resting tightly.

“Do I annoy you that much, John?”

He shook his head.

“Oh …… no ma’am, I think you’re beautiful, I really do.”

She smiled serenely.

“Thanks, I think you’re pretty too.”

She pulled his white shirt open and slid her fingers in. He became tense. She felt a thrill. His skin was so smooth, warm and soft. Floyd’s hand continued to slide down and suddenly rested on his shaft in one fluid motion.

“Is this uncomfortable? John.”

“No, ma’am. It’s nice.”

“Very good, I like it too. Have you ever had sex with a woman?”

He shook his head shyly.

She unhooked her bra and put his hand on it.

“Will you make love to me?”

“I don’t know, ma’am.”

Her hand now went to his belt, undoing it in a flash, “So you want to kiss me.” It seemed the word was more appropriate. For the first time in her life she said the word out loud. Had he wanted to copulate or make love to her, it seemed ridiculous to ask someone in such a manner. No, it wasn’t that. She could only think of it as a planned arrangement, and that was the best way to put it.

“I …… I don’t know, ma’am.”

Floy snapped her resolve. She stood up and walked toward the curtains, snapped the blinds shut and came back to her original position. The young man didn’t move half a step. She undid his shirt.

Ramon pounded the wall hard.

“This damned whore who’s going to get stabbed! Wait till you see John in the morning!”

His first instinctive reaction was to run right over and capitalize on both of them, but he pressed himself. Was that a trick she was going to pull? Besides, he couldn’t risk it. His head felt like it was going to crack at the first groan that came from the room. The owner was in a long nightgown, the famous guest was in narrow panties and a sheer bra, and the waitress was half-naked in her room. It would be the talk of the townspeople’s chat and gossip, and perhaps cause a stir as well.

Ramon drew the curtains in his room and snapped the lights off. Still pacing back and forth in the room, his prick still cocked, but, out of anger and not color suit he was desperate to use it to take her to the bottom, deep and hard.

I can’t wait to be able to give her a little color with it, nail her …… or even tie her up …… as well as rape this bitch who came out in the daytime to specifically catch people. But wasn’t that just what she had wanted? Had she wanted to be raped in the first place, and then use the law to blackmail him into waiving all her bills?

What the hell was he supposed to do? Knowing full well that he would see it, she must be irritating him like that for something.

It was something she had planned and pre-arranged for the boy to deliver the cocoa. And what else was on that plate? He had just noticed John handing her something shiny.

Damned and crazy whore. He was now determined to get to the bottom of this game.

He waited for the right opportunity, watching closely and waiting until he recognized it. He would teach her an unforgettable lesson.

Floy’s face was pressed against John’s warm chest. He stood meekly, loosening himself with deep breaths. But the pounding, pounding, pounding of her heartbeat aroused her lust even more. It was too much like the pounding, pounding sounds of lovemaking coming from the next door.

She thought of the door. Now that she had the key, she was more than ready to make her fantasies about them real. She wondered how it felt to actually see someone having sex.

Her hand slid down the chain of this meek young man’s pants, and the honeyed liquid from the commotion glued her triangle panties, pussy lips and ass cheeks together. Her movements were somewhat inconvenient as she inclined her body toward the less willing boy.

Floy’s body shook slightly. She pulled the zipper of his pants away. The bulging shaft was all but revealed, and she became more involved.

She dropped to her knees.

Gently like a feather, her fingers brushed over his male genitals. A long, rod-like shape with a pair of pocketed meatballs hanging from the underside. He gasped. The prick was beginning to engorge and swell. Desperate for her caress, he moved his entire body toward her hand.

Floy was excited. She was getting another man, not very old, but reacting strongly to the caresses of her hand, and she experienced a feeling of power and arousal.

She quickly removed his shirt. Then pulled down his fitted briefs, trembling more sharply as they were pulled down bit by bit. When the deep red fleshy head at the top of the visibly erect penis was exposed, she leaned her body over and kissed it, her eyes closed.

He was now completely naked, but the young man still wanted to get rid of her. As he moved his body, she tightened her grip on the rapidly growing erection and gently tweaked it. She kept rubbing it up and down with her slender thumb and other fingers, watching with curiosity. Each time the glans was exposed, she licked and kissed the small eye in the center. The glans slapped back and forth in her hand as if making love to her fingers.

He became more aroused. Moaning with each slow masturbation. She was amazed at the organ held tightly in her hand. It was the first erect penis she had ever touched.

Presently toward him he lurched forward, one at a time. She stuck her tongue out to lick the groove sunk between the glans and the foreskin.

A mixed body shakes like a spasm. She wasn’t sure yet what sign this was. With a final, violent stroke between her fingers, a viscous, hot liquid jetted onto her face.

Floy watched its throbbing with a look of delicate delight. A constant gush of copious liquid shot back up her neck and down between her breasts in a slow stream.

The glans swelled to a great size and the hole in the center opened angrily. Despite the fact that the powerful jets had stopped, the cock still jiggled rhythmically, powerfully, in her hand.

She licked and kissed that hole again, tasting the salty liquid that stained her mouth from the first ejaculatory spurt she experienced.

Holding the taut testicles in the palm of his hand. Licked the boy-man’s penis without stopping, from the head to the root.

She rose slowly, her lips still exploring the young man’s taut body until she met his lips.

His lips quivered.

She kissed them gently with her lips still stained with white cum.

Suddenly he broke free with a jerk. Bending down to pick up his clothes, he grabbed the fifty pounds and ran away.

Floy sat in front of the mirror in a trance. She spat out the tip of her tongue. It looked slim through plump, lubricated lips. It quickly licked over the white semen still coating her upper lip before retracting.

Shifting her hips on the stool, she removed her boxers. Then she placed it on her breasts, which were stained with the adolescent man’s semen, and stretched out her fingers to rub them over it. The stirring – which she understood to be a physical reaction – came from an abundance of energy and vigor. It was like the essence of youth inside her, erotic and stimulating. It seemed to sensitize her skin as well, creating a strong column of desire that she had never felt before. Her nipples stood erect, almost coaling, as fingers slick with slippery cum rubbed it with lustful control.

She reached one hand between her thighs and dabbed at her glistening love juices before bringing it back, mixing hers with the cum that John, only nineteen, had ejaculated.

She applied the slime mixture to her cheeks, her breasts, and her nipples, reaching at least a kind of out-of-body intercourse.

Lying on the bed with her legs stretched out. She collected the last bits of slippery cum from her neck. Smearing them onto her fully engorged and swollen extremely sensitive clit. As if by magic, it caused her clit to feel pleasurable in a way it never had before.

An hour and a half had passed, and Floy was still lying there, dimly lit by the lamp beside her, one long finger pinched deep into the side of her body. The slow tremor between her thighs was almost unbearable.

What could she do to ease this torment?

Since she’d first met Raymond Dewberry, that little tumor that hardened at the touch of her fingers had entered her life. Every time she was stimulated by him, it grew longer and more engorged.

When she gently aid rubbed it, it twitched, but only then. She thought it must need more stimulation to dispel that unbearable torment.

As Floy lay there, a wave of sadness washed over her and loneliness set in. She had paid so much money to keep this young man with her, to touch him for comfort and fulfillment. But that mysterious male genitalia had not fulfilled the need she lacked. She had stopped rubbing the penis before he ejaculated.

If she knew he was at the peak of his arousal, she would take him to the bed and let his genitals penetrate deep into his body.

She felt a sense of being cheated. All that remained was the memory of a wonderful experience with that naive young man. The pain of not being able to fulfill her heart’s desire pierced her deeply.

But that was not the young man’s fault. He was so frightened and cowering that only at the end, when her hand had aroused him, did he lose his fear for a while. It was only when she kissed him with his white cum on her mouth that he fled. She guessed he was afraid she would do it to him again.

It was two o’clock in the morning when Floy slammed the thought of that key.

It was very quiet in the next door. She was becoming so obsessed with sex between men and women now that her attention was back on the couple in the Mizuki suite.

Now could be the perfect opportunity to try out this key.

The door opened easily. She left the door open with a dark crack an inch wide, just in case.

Floy paused for a moment to let her eyes adjust to the darkness inside and soon saw the bed. The heat of the room fluttered through the doorway in droves, puffing gently onto her face like a lover’s breath. It made her think of Ramon.

The feeling of the breath of Dewberry’s breath blowing on his face. First at the table in breakfast, then when he locked & took out his pearl necklace.

The couple’s naked, toned bodies lay flat on their backs, his hand on her breast and hers between his thighs. Even in their slumber, the two of them did not let go of the information printed in their respective hands.

Their rhythmic panting resumed, making Floy more too bilious to come to the sea. Naked as well, she tiptoed into the room, leaving the door half-covered so that she could slip away. So that she could slip away quickly.

As she stood at the end of the bed, moonlight shone through a gap in the curtains.

This beautiful girl with her full head of blonde hair and only fair skin slept there like an angel. Not large, but very full breasts lay evenly proportioned and flat, the immaculate areolas resembling the innocent mouths of babies suckling milk, and her long, shiny brown-haired lover was cupping a perky nipple in his hand. Even in sleep, there was passion. Floy looked around, the softly curved slender waist, the plump hips, the deep navel, the mound between the stretched thighs, Floy rated a little hesitantly.

Her heart thumped. A mixture of trepidation and excitement stimulated the labia intensely. Never in her life had she admired a naked woman with an erotic gaze. After the age of thirteen she had been afraid to view her naked body in a mirror. It wasn’t until the beginning of her twenty-fourth year that she began to notice herself again, and that too was limited to sensual satisfaction.

She mentally scolded herself, her breasts rising and falling violently.

The girl was at most twenty-two years old, with a full head of blonde hair and snow-white skin that exuded a seductive eroticism, a strong sense of carnal desire.

The center of her plump, toned thighs flaunted two delicate, soft labia. Slender, thick blonde pubic hair covered both sides. Froy felt a strong surge of excitement and wanted desperately to press his lips to the tiny, tender buds of flesh that resembled the stamens of a lovely flower. The air smelled of a woman’s distinctive, strong, aromatic odor. Her belly throbbed with the strange stirring that flooded through her body. She reached out her hungry tongue to lick the still salty lips again.

The man let out a gasp and rolled over and let go of the hand that had been groping his breast. One leg fell to the bed, the other bent at an angle to his body, as if he were still showing Froi everything in his sleep.

Floy was kneeling at the foot of the bed, his eyes three paces away from the man’s long, flaccid genital pair. Two large ovoid objects hung loosely field site. One of them was hanging a little lower than the other …… one.

The naked head of crimson mushroom-like flesh was pulling lifelessly in the heated room. She couldn’t help wanting to suck on it/wanting desperately to see it become alive, like Raymond Duberry’s, transformed from a …… docile insect chrysalis into a ferocious, voracious beast, a monstrous beast.

Floy snickered at the thought of this new term he had coined.

As if compelled, her hand involuntarily ran between the thighs of this young husband. She realized she was crazy, but it was hard to suppress the intense desire to experience and touch someone else’s body.

She slid her fingers up between the velvety, slippery lower belly and touched the man’s prick. The hole in the head of the penis was closed, the whole thing hanging downward and stretched out. Her fingers moved back to the thick brown tufts of pubic hair, caressing them with pleasure, her whole body shuddering uncontrollably as a torrent of hot love juices gushed out from below.

He gasped slightly and thrust his pelvis upward, the sleeping man actually aroused by the stroking.

She shivered and trembled as a stirring spread through her body once again. Stirring up a man’s carnal desires in this way stimulated her more intensely than any previous experience.

Her eyes were glued to the expanding cock. Watching as it flexed and opened the hole on top, silently stretching out and hitching a ride on the lower belly portion. Her hand moved to its root again writhing around, touching the scrotum underneath as she did so, and slowly sliding back down to the grooved slit below the glans. The prick slowly hardened under her touch, its veins and veins rising angrily.

Floy was a little confused, testing desperately wanting it inside her, wanting the taste of this firm thing thrusting deep, the mucous membranes of her cunt wanting to cluster around it, sucking on it until it shot thin, hot semen into it, just as John had just squirted into her hand.

But she didn’t dare do anything rash.

All she could do now was cover the large scrotum with her hand and use her thumb to tweak the hard cock.

He rolled over, groaning with sleepy confusion, then pressed his body into the girl’s outstretched thighs. She let out a moan as well.

“Sniff, Jay, not now.”

“Don’t get me, please! Touch my cock while I’m asleep, you know what happens.”

He got a little angry and slapped her neck. She moaned again and drew her leg back.

“Open up, I need to warm up my cock.”

She muttered, “You never stop warming your cock, you horny beast.”

“He yelled low again.”

Froi shuddered and moved with excitement. She watched with constructive fascination as one, as if she had inadvertently become the mastermind behind the scenes, had an erection hardening and a fleshy law that was oozing with fluid. She held her breath as she crouched at the foot of the bed and surveyed the young bride’s engorged and swollen labia. They were already fluttering wetly, as if they were begging to swallow and suck her husband’s impotence, to taste his sweet semen.

The young man energetically and rhythmically began to shake, and Floy heard that familiar flutter, flutter sound again.

The attraction of sex is so tingly. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Floy couldn’t help but snicker again at the thought of the apt word sticker. That mere word brightly summed up all the specifics of having sex. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, the word reached her young lover’s ears. No wonder it created intense excitement, and no wonder she was accompanied by a stirring, floating thought at the thought of the word. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Froi gasped softly for air. This was the only way to keep it under control without making a sound. One hand stroked her clitoris, while the other, with determination, reached once again between the strong young man’s thighs, touching the two fleshy hooters. Floy’s body shuddered involuntarily, and the finger pressed against his hot clit kept rubbing in time with the man’s regular undulations. The other hand still kept stroking the insistent hard cock.

He groaned as it brushed against his swollen, phallic hair-covered scrotum, his breathing becoming faster and more urgent.

That’s when the girl jerked upward and let out a scream. It was the same kind of sound that Floy had heard so many times each night.

“Fuck me, you pleasurable man, come inside me, I want you to come in.” Her body twisted like a snake.

He fought his way forward and rammed down. So deep that almost today Floyd’s fingers couldn’t touch the prick.

Her slender hand with red nail polish gripped a handful of this man’s muscular buttocks, her index finger reaching up to explore the anus where the buttocks were for. His body squirmed against her fingers, faster and faster. He “huffed, huffed.”

Breathing heavily, all grunts on one side.

Fingers exploring around her anus, Floy do yelled. She began to stir and fidget. She tried to restrain herself from popping out and throwing the girl out of bed. Floy almost exploded, desperate to get this man’s genitals into her own burning genitals right away. And her pelvis kept pushing upward.

The girl hid again, “Fuck me, Jay.” Floy desperately bit the sheets to keep from making a sound, fuck me too!

As with the same unthinkable as what had already happened with John, she felt the night of his semen surging and raging in the channel of his penis. The man became frantic and continued for a moment before easing down onto her hand. Floy was in a trapped position now, unable to move her hand as it was pressed tightly between the bed and his still trembling body, and she didn’t dare to pull it out.

But she didn’t move right away. The sharp jerks she’d just had had her almost wiped out, and she wanted to regain her strength, but hoped they wouldn’t notice anything. What if they found out? That would be too bad. She would declare that she had felt her way in due to sleepwalking, or something incredible like that. Doing that with John tonight might get her kicked out in the morning by the ears.

“I can’t believe it, Prissy.” He said quietly to the blonde girl next to him, “I don’t understand how you got my prick, but this fuck was most comfortable.”

She giggled, “I’ve only had my hands on your ass, and that’s how I used to fuck.”

A kissing sound reached Floy’s ears.

“Well, will you do it again? My God, it just made me so happy.”

Floy touched his already softening cock, which was slipping out of the woman’s love hole is. She felt the woman’s hot, slippery juices drip onto her hand, which caused her tiny bud-like clit to stir again.

Her body had been shaking non-stop, her nerves still taut. The tension from this streak had failed to loosen up. She adjusted her posture.

A long, thin hand with red nails reached down and gently caressed that buttock.

“You, Jay. Borland, it’s like a ram.”

“Then you are the ewe who mated with the ram. Prissy, stop pretending.”

“I’ll admit it is, and if I didn’t like it, I wouldn’t be so nice. Twice in one night I’ve been awakened by your first-class prick. I’d like you to do it again, dear Jay.”

“You didn’t have an orgasm, sweetheart.”

“Almost there. But whenever I make love, I always feel just on the verge of orgasm, and I need your tongue strip.”

“We’ve done every fucking position I know, beautiful.”

“I know, but I’d like to try something else again, tomorrow in those woods, I’ve always wanted to.”

He laughed out loud, “You’re a slut who would die without a man. Why don’t I just take you in the breakfast room if it will make you live.” .

She laughed her ass off.

“I don’t think Miss Painter would agree.”

“Then fuck Ms. Painter.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“Just an analogy, sweetheart.”

“Lick me, Jay. You lick me and I’ll be happy all the time. I won’t go to sleep if I can’t get to orgasm.”

Foggy hummed softly. She wanted Jay from the inside. Borland to lick his wife. Let her orgasm and go to bed.

But will the girl be satisfied? At this rate, no sooner was it light. The lovers would find Miss Floy Paynter hiding at the foot of the bed.

Luckily, the couch cushions were high off the ground. Froi quietly slipped her legs under the sofa potential. In case of emergency, she could shrink over the whole thing. But it wouldn’t work out that way; they’d be asleep soon after they made love.

Floyd’s legs retracted to the bottom of the bed, supporting her body with time. She winced in fear as she realized the man had raised his knees and was crawling toward the end of the bed. His feet dangled over the edge of the bed, only inches from her face, and he was putting his head deep between the young woman’s splayed thighs. Tight buttocks were almost above her head. The scrotum swung loosely.

His man-root was thick, but now it seemed to dangle like it was trapped between his robust thighs. If Froi had been allowed – or if she had been brave enough – she would have straightened up and taken the thing in her mouth.

But she wasn’t so bold as to lie on her back and watch the lovely man wiggle his carnal genitals around as he licked and kissed his wife. Froy cursed her uncontrollable curiosity; tonight was the craziest night of her life. A month ago, her publisher had hinted that she was going to add a depiction of human nature to her novel, and she shuddered to think what she could write in her frenzied mind.

If Raymond. Shelbury couldn’t resist the urge to chastise her for what was going on in the mysterious darkness of the night, it would be hard to imagine what would happen if he went to his room and found the key, or if he opened the door and found the esteemed Floy Paynter sprawled under the bed of two lovers having wild sex, peeking over a man’s shoulder.

She blew a soft breath toward her lower collar and vowed not to look across anyone else’s span next time.

The fucking above intensified and Floy moaned. This crazy oddity stimulated her more than anything else in her life.

The man suddenly slid down from the end of the bed, landing on his knees on either side of Froi’s head, and she was too busy slipping under the bed.

“Sniff, you’re awesome, awesome.” There was a stirring murmur of praise from above his head. The cock was beginning to fill with blood and harden again. She was so close to it that she could suck it with a twist of her head.

Yet she dared not do so.

She was now very aware of how men change. The foreskin was quickly held down as the front penis began to fill with blood and swell. Then the peachy-plummy testicles contracted upwards, which she guessed might be a preparation for the man’s imminent ejaculation.

The eight-inch long, vein-raging cock seemed shorter than Ramon Du Usher’s, but probably packs more of a punch.

Later she could portray this from her imagination, plus fantasize about kissing and sucking Jay. Borland’s genitals. Floy was suddenly stunned again by her erotic fantasies.

She wasn’t sure why a man’s testicles were always one large and one small, and the larger one hung lower. From what she remembered, it seemed that the larger ones were on the left side. She recalled that a professor had claimed that men of genius had larger testicles on the right side, and that Rodin and David’s paint and charcoal drawings of men showed significantly lower testicles than on the left. It seems that this professor was correct in his theory about genius, because these two famous painters modeled their bodies after their own when they created the human body ……

Now the man’s testicles bobbed before her eyes, his moving cock brushing against the bedspread. She concluded that he was not a genius, but a personality expert, a true Olympian in sexual sports. Based on his testicles, he could only be analyzed as an extremely common average man.

But in front of her, she couldn’t even get a man like that.

The lovers’ rigid rocking on the bed brought Floy back into a state of frenzy. With each violent rise and fall of the woman up and down, the bed kept pressing against Floy’s body as she gasped for air and tried to hold back as much noise as she could. The thought of going to face Ramon if she was found out. Socialbury’s earthy snarls and the humiliation and alienation of the other guests in this elegant hotel, it would be worse.

She had to get a grip on herself, she couldn’t bear the fact that every morning and evening in restaurants and bars, the glances of praise and admiration all of a sudden turned into coconut-losing disgust.

Floy lifted his head hard and looked upward.

Jay Bowland’s legs were spread wider and his prick kept touching the edge of the bed. Each up and down stretch of the penis made her almost choke. Her body was constantly touched by the bed, but it couldn’t cause any arousal.

As his body shook up spasmodically and everything reached a climax, moans and oblivious growls mingled together, almost like waves in the ocean, one above the other.

Floy was shivering and panting warily. She was trapped by the lovers.

A violent jet of lysergic fluid sprayed her face and she couldn’t help but look upward. Jay Bowland’s erotically charged cock was spewing out copious amounts of white semen. With each spontaneous jerk, the solitary white goo ejected from the little eye and dripped down into Floy’s mouth.

Her tongue came out naturally, licking and sucking the man’s cum that was both sweet and salty at the same time. This was the second time tonight. The unbearable stirring between her legs made her sigh.

He crawled back into bed. The likelihood that Floy will be found has diminished.

“You really are a most excellent cocksucker, Jay Bowland.”

Foggy’s heart sank, they still had to talk. She stared up at the ceiling with wide eyes. The ceiling gradually became brighter, the light of dawn at dawn coloring the curtains.

“I’m glad you’re so fastidious, sweetheart.”

There was a long, haunting silence before Priss spoke again.

“Have you kissed many people? Jay.”

He smiled wanly, “A few, I guess. But let’s not talk about the old days, remember it’s the two of us together now.”

“I just want to know how you learned so much.”

“Do you wish I was a boy-man?”

“No, of course not, I like you the way you are.”

Another silence ensued. Froi quietly shifted a bit chapter, it looked like she was going to be zombie-like until morning.

“Jay?”

He grunted.

“Ugh, my heart.”

“Do you think the woman called Pester will hear voices through the door?”

He grunted and laughed twice.

“Who knows if she’s listening.”

“She looks quite melancholy, and I know she is painted to make a graceful, elegant look, but she can’t hide the sadness in those eyes.”

“Really, I wasn’t paying attention. Hearts.”

“Liar, last night at the bar, I saw you staring at her breasts. He was quite fleshy and revealing in those black tights. I could see it so clearly, that triangle between her legs, so obvious.”

“I admit, I can’t move my eyes all the way around, but just this once.”

“Snap.” Came the sound of a hand hitting skin.

“How dare you take a note on her, Jay Bowland.”

“Why can’t I? Can’t it be imagined? She’s the most thoughtful woman I’ve ever met, except for you, of course, heart.”

“Slap.” Another slap came from ……

“I won’t let you think.”

He hemmed and hawed.

“This woman is such a joke. Wants to be a whore but wants to be chaste at the same time. You didn’t see how she seduced Socialbury at the bar last night. And how she treated him at the restaurant this morning? You see he really likes her, standing at the table all so apprehensive, in fact she knows it in her heart. That cow, I saw her eyes glancing at his crotch the whole time.”

“Maybe they’re secret lovers, maybe he’s sleeping with her in her room right now.”

“We can hear it.”

“Or maybe he sucked her without making a sound, like you kissed me.”

“You, Prissy Bowland, you simply have an amazing imagination. No matter how quiet he is, she’s going to scream as loud as you do, get it, they’re not going to be quiet in bed.” Another slap.

“Ah-ching, you little shrew!”

“Maybe she was abandoned when she was young. Women only become so melancholy when their lovers turn their backs on them. I sympathize with the ground.” , Tears welled up in Froy’s eyes and she almost cried out. It was said that eavesdroppers never heard anything good said about them. She shook her head at their unjust opinion.

She wasn’t trying to condemn Jay or Prissy. They were just randomly saying what they felt. It didn’t matter what people talked about her, just admire her success. She knew in her heart that most of the frigidity was faked, but the melancholy was something else.

Froi sighed softly again. It didn’t matter what other people thought, as long as they knew it in their own minds. The pleasure of placing herself in the midst of such a strange adventure was more than enough to outweigh any censure from the couple or Raymond Dewberry.

She misjudged Dewberry. She lacked understanding of men. He hadn’t actually gone as far as she’d thought he’d go, nor had he gone to meet her demands. And why was she hiding under this bed, playing the part voyeur Thompson?

As for Floy, still continuing to implement her plan, and to put it down on paper later. To the onlooker, she looks arrogant and indifferent. In fact, Froi was just doing it because she didn’t want to get in the way of her ultimate goal.

“Promise me you won’t touch that Paynter woman, Jay.” Prissy said with a yawn.

He replied, also with a sleepy voice, “How can I do that when I’m going to be sucked dry by you?”

“You snuck through the door while I was asleep.”

“Then tie her to the bed frame and rape her without hesitation.”

Froi’s heart almost stopped as his mind raced. Had he chosen the wrong prey to begin with?

Should we really set up a trap for this rough and lecherous husband instead of Dewberry? No, that’s a wild idea.

How could she do that? Dewberry was the speaker on the long run. Had he reacted when she implemented her plan, all would have been well.

In one short night she had already gained a valuable experience, and perhaps tomorrow night would bring her exactly what she wanted from Dewberry.

It was almost dawn when Froy slipped out from under the bed. She looked down at the lovers in the bed and smiled triumphantly. They slept there in each other’s arms, his thigh stretched between her legs, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

Floy tweezed and slipped back into her room, smiling smugly as she pulled a skillful rose from a vase on her desk.

Then he slipped into the lovers’ room and placed the rose between the pillows.

Once again, she was infected with their wonderful, lust-filled and loving scent, and she secretly blessed them. They already possessed a worthwhile, sexual freedom to crave and fully enjoy instinctive desires and emotional pleasures. If she had had the courage to pursue it at that age, she would not be here now.

From them, she gained her first real understanding of sexuality. They had provided her with the experience of actual sex. Though they did not realize what she had done, she would repay them anyway. Even though they had treated her like a depressed, aloof woman, she would never turn her back on them.

Floy lay in her own bed, the color of her husband had begun to brighten. A constant surge of loneliness and sadness shook her so strongly that she forgot the pain in her legs, and Moby’s intolerable turmoil spread rapidly throughout her body.

The sight of Jay Bowland pounding away was now a blurred shadow, and even young John’s incessant jets of cock weren’t worth remembering, but how had they faded from the mind so quickly?

Maybe it wasn’t something she experienced first hand and didn’t fully penetrate her. Or maybe it was a desperate attempt to take something back, to experience what it was like to be persecuted. Or maybe it was a desire to get rid of her troubled mind and loosen her taut nerves. What she really needed was to feel what it was like to have an actual man pounding away in her cunt.

It was dawn.

The new Ichabod might bring more answers. Possibly Raymond Jamboree would rage against her, or perhaps he would throw her out of the hotel. Possibly he would ignore her for her lewdness, her indulgence, and the curtains against which tonight might ……

Floy fell asleep.

Chapter 3: The Perverted Froy

Breakfast time is almost over. Floy came down late. The punctual red-nosed merchant, the colonels, and their ladies in blue coats had departed. Jay Bowland and Prissy were the only ones left in the dining-room-Froy saw Raymond Dewberry hovering back and forth outside the dining-room door.

The lack of admirers brought back an expression of indifference to her face, though there was a hint of fear hidden beneath her calm exterior.

The newlyweds glanced this way from time to time with a furtive demeanor, and once they met Froi’s gaze, they hastened to avert their eyes again.

She guffawed a frank smile. They must have seen the rose between the pillows. Even though it was a trick with an ulterior motive, it was more or less cozy. Though it had been a long time ago now, she even wanted to make up for sniffing at the two of them sexually without permission.

The atmosphere became a little tense with Jenny’s presence. When she came over to prepare breakfast for Floy, it was obvious that there was a hint of hostility and intentional provocation.

“Which breakfast is required, please.” Froy realized her boss was waiting to tease her.

Floy was reticent, sweeping a cold glance at Jenny. Deliberately flipping through the menu slowly, she was determined to win the initiative before it all kicked in. She hated any opponent who tried to beat her. Right now, she was staring intently and aggressively into the blue eyes of the female messenger.

“Where was John this morning?”

Those blue eyes fluttered in annoyance.

“He’s gone.”

Froi didn’t flinch, she didn’t want the girl to see her shocked.

“Gone? He’s not happy to do it here?”

“He’s just ……”

“Just what?”

Floy caught Jenny glancing at Raymond. He stood in the doorway, looking uneasily this way. The girl had evidently not yet made up her mind to pour out a complaint toward this guest. It was clear to Floy that this was because of her affair with John. It was evident from her hostile face. If they had accomplished nothing in their careers, then this humble entourage could be competent in gossiping about other people’s affairs.

“I’m not quite sure, ma’am. What kind of breakfast do you need me to prepare for you now?”

Cream, bread and lemon tea, Floy replied impatiently. Then, immediately, he lifted his eyes away to enjoy the sunny spring morning in the park.

In the distance, the temperature on the ground was slowly rising, and a light mist hung over the forest.

Froi thought darkly that if she wasn’t kicked out today, she would go for a walk so she could consider a few things in detail.

Whether to remain in the hotel or to be evicted. She wanted to wait until she saw Raymond Doubleday’s reaction. Out of the corner of her eye, Floyd eyed Shelbury walking across the lobby, heading this way.

“Good morning, Miss Painter, is everything satisfactory in?”

Froi twisted his head around with an unassuming smile. See, he was still going for the trick.

“Thank you, Mr. Dewberry, very satisfactory.”

Jay’s eyes swept this way. He noticed that Floyd’s gaze didn’t fall on Ramon Du Fauré’s crotch, didn’t even look at him. Instead, she handed Jay an elusive smile. He hurriedly lowered his head, obviously looking a little perturbed that Floy had caught him watching the two of them.

Ramon had a feeling that something was going to happen in the restaurant, and he had noticed the couple speculating about his guests. Standing in the doorway a moment ago, he had also detected the antagonism that Jenny and Floy Pester felt toward each other. I He was a little weary this morning. He was tired of his and Floy’s mutual suspicions, and he hated the kind of games she was playing with her staff.

He was reluctant to let the sexually aggressive Jenny sleep with him. He was also tired of always having his genitals on the verge of eruption.

This would only destroy him and nothing else. Yuko had been pacing back and forth between his room and the hallway last night, and with less than two hours of sleep, he was now feeling extremely tired.

Last night, when Floy Paynter had drawn the curtains to hide the fact that she would be harassing his new clerk, he had been so enraged that he had almost rushed over to him in a furious rage. But was this wild impulse to protect little John? He was perplexed. A young man of nineteen would have handled the relations of the sexes well, and perhaps nothing unusual would have happened. He knew this woman.

Raymond surmised that his irritation must have come from jealousy, a thought that aborted his impulsive behavior as he flopped back onto the bed.

A make note was left on the table by the door this morning. John had unexpectedly resigned, saying that a relative was ill.

Cursing loudly at Floy Pest and seemingly having a hard time retrieving the runaway staff member, Raymond finds Jenny to let her take over the job.

He could not, however, leave Floy Paynter fowl open; since she had stayed here, she had caused a sensation, and many self-proclaimed journalists had flocked here, ostensibly pretending to come for cocktails or impromptu meals, but actually wanting to catch a glimpse of the big-name author. By heart. The hotel’s revenues increased considerably.

It was Floy Paynter’s patronage that made the hotel fluffy, and probably the reason he watched her for so long.

Of course there was her, and he vowed to get some of that from her, either mentally or physically, and if he let her out of the hotel right now, it would be a lost opportunity, and he would have to wait and catch any hint of what was to come. Eventually the big deal was to be kicked out of her bedroom screaming.

However, his heart actually loved her deeply, and only God knew what was going on.

Ramon stood in front of her with his tray and she looked up at him. He looked a little hesitant.

“Thanks, Dewberry, anything else?”

She surveyed his face searchingly.

“Nothing more, Ms. Pester, except ……”

“What.”

“Do you want to pick up your necklace today? I have to go out in the morning. So, I thought I’d ……”

Floy interrupted, “Not in the morning. Maybe the afternoon.”

Froy was taking a slow walk through the park, the warm sunlight spilling over her back. In the distance, a pair of lovers were walking hand in hand, with a man in a black jacket concealed behind them walking sideways up the steps. She ignored them and continued toward the forest. Her camera was slung over her shoulder. The steps were pleasant.

Two hundred yards away appeared an open meadow, a herd of tethered cows singing and bellowing as if in agony, and around them stood a number of men.

She raised her camera and watched silently through the lens as a big, stupid bull with his nose pressed up against the back of a cow. He had a pair of large, heavy testicles at his crotch, and a light-colored, thick rod of meat sticking out in front of him. It was amazing to Froi, and she watched intently, completely mesmerized.

The bull’s two front hooves climbed onto the cow’s back and inserted his long penis into her. She had a look of obvious surprise on her face.

With two or three stretches, the bull ejaculated. There came a joyous bellowing. The bull slowly climbed off the cow, shook his long, meaty rump, and went in search of another cow.

Froi moved forward slowly, shivering. In her mind this mating was purely a cold-blooded act. But she had a sudden desire to experience this kind of emotionally unfounded, forced intercourse with a man in the future.

Shame? Not bad. But how could she explain the recent spate of absurd behavior? She felt remorse for tainting John’s virginity, but hadn’t expected him to disappear. She also hadn’t expected those adolescent men to resist the temptation of a nubile, sexy woman, and now she even questioned her own attractiveness.

In her mind she had always thought of men as nothing more than being pushed around by a long, stupid crotch to look at. Exactly, as if they were dogs being herded with a whip. But she was wrong, she misunderstood all men, including Dewberry. Though, as she had been hiding, she needed sex, and she needed it to always be around her.

Seeing his silence about everything, she felt compelled to change her tactics. The tumultuous restlessness in the heart of the mountain also made her more lustful and paranoid, and troubles came with it. She wanted to expose her body more so that she could get more excitement and thrill from the men drooling over her. She was indulging in such thoughts.

Now she was eagerly craving more carnal knowledge and experience without again daring to ask openly. She was brittle and timid and secretive. The reason she had slipped into the couple’s room as well as followed them into the forest was that they had undoubtedly become her target.

What had happened with Raymond Dewberry, she had written down. But she was to remain here. Using John’s affair and arousing the jealousy of Doubleday’s end had led to some valuable experiences, but had not yet been able to have the effect she had expected.

It was obvious to Floy that if she kept up the pressure, strong Ramon would soon give in. If she stimulated him with bull coitus and that wonderful fuck of Jay and Prissy’s, he would surely drop his polite demeanor, revert to his animal instincts, and become as rough, strong, and relentless as that bull.

Ramon waited for Floy Paynter to go away, and he did not want her to perceive that he was immediately trailing her through that park. He wanted to take the stallion out for a walk first, and come back as if by chance he had passed through the woods and accidentally and fortunately come upon her.

He slung on his small binoculars and headed for the stables.

He saw Floy’s red Bentley convertible sedan sitting there, its cream-colored top closed tightly, with Jay and Prissy’s colorful minivan, which was being repaired, parked off to the side.

The mechanic came out from under the car covered in oil. Dewberry greeted him, and the mechanic, with a clueless expression on his face, made an impotent gesture with his hands.

Ramon rolled onto his horse and rode off in the direction of the back of the park.

The woods were dimly lit, with a few scattered rays of sunlight falling through the green granite leaves in jagged patches on the grass.

Floy walked gently forward, no doubt with Jay and Priss not far behind.

At that moment Floy suddenly remembered what the young bride had said when she was in bed.

With intense anticipation and curiosity, she carefully and slowly moved forward. She did not repent anything and became an extreme voyeur. Her bad behavior was even worse than Hale-Marie’s. And she never repented.

She tiptoed to a stop fairly close to them, the couple was already completely naked, their clothes thrown aside on the grass that still held the morning dew. Floy had hidden himself behind a very thick oak tree, only a foot away from them.

She raised her camera, ready to take in the scene.

They were teasing the deejay. Jay’s thick prick was pointing at his pig thing. Prissy ran away from him, her full head of blonde hair glistening in the fragmented sunlight.

Her arms were spread wide, a pair of breasts heaving up and down as Jay chased after her, her silvery laughter echoing through the trees.

Froi posed the camera with a skillful hand, ready to take a sneak peek.

The fact that the couple is so open about their love affair excites Froy, and the carefree love affair must be wonderful.

Now, Jay had chased Prissy to the point where she had no way to escape. Priss could only dodge through the bushes, jumping and screaming, trying not to let Jay catch her. Jay’s legs were stretched out and his arms were open, trying to capture her as quickly as possible.

Floy kept adjusting the focus.

If he grows a goatee and two pointed ears, he will be a living shepherd god.

Floy sang and sang and sang and sang and then the shutter.

Jay finally captured his prey, and to Froy, who kept capturing every scene, a rare occurrence.

Jay grabbed Prissy by the wrist and held her up in the air by the waist with one hand.

Jay’s face was directly in front of where Froi was hiding, but Froi was sure he wouldn’t notice her presence.

Floy cranked the camera and flew.

She was mesmerized by the body of the young man who was getting closer and closer. He was tensing his whole body, stretching forward and back, and letting out a sharp cry, every muscle in his strong, sculpted body shaking with it.

The ground thick hard tufts of pubic hair were almost hidden by the huge erect penis. The cock looked even harder than last night. He approached a fallen oak tree, grinning wickedly. The trunk, which was at least four feet in diameter, was only three steps away from the oak tree where Floy was hiding.

Floy watched carefully as Prissy’s body face down asked him to be as aroused as he was. The two plump, rounded, blonde pubic hair-covered labia were a light reddish hue, something that Floy had desperately wanted to kiss this morning.

Fryer pressed the shutter with the focus on these honey-like pussy lips, his body shivering with excitement. The clitoral skin was engorged and swollen with the carnal images. Jay threw his naked wife down, tied her to the fallen tree trunk with a noose around her neck with lightning speed, and snapped her hands, waist, and ankles with a quick snap of the noose.

Froi was stunned, she almost let out a shriek as Priss was now tied head down, hips as above, limbs splayed wide apart to the tree trunk, and her hands tied tightly behind her back, she screamed in horror and struggled, but to no great avail, as Jai moved his arms and legs around a bit in preparation.

He knelt down in front of Prissy, his face turned squarely toward Floy, and she saw the early glint of lust and wickedness and sly recitation in his eyes.

He tilted his head and grinned triumphantly, “My little slut, you’re mine. I can fuck you any way I want! You naughty thing! So disobedient!” He picked up a soft branch that he had already prepared, bent it in his hand, and began to whip her buttocks. The leaves at the end of the branch struck between Prissy’s forked, supple thighs and on her damp, delicate skin.

Froi pointed at the camera again, shaking unceasingly.

The woman let out an agonized and slightly pleasured cry, causing Froy to shake even more violently.

“You bastard, Jay Bowland, get off me or I’ll never speak to you again, sniff, little heart, you’re the one who wanted to be in the woods, and you’re going to live fast!”

Froy squatted down, her thighs quivering under the pleasure that traveled through her body, and she seemed to feel that the branch was jerking against her buttocks, and the tips of the leaves were disturbing the engorged labia.

Floy was a little swept away, that sexual hunger deep inside her body was on the verge of breaking down.

She saw Prissy’s cunt lips flap and twitch as the branch stimulated her.

“You’re an abomination, I’m going to leave you in the woods to feed the animals, those wolves will come and lick you where you’re not at peace, I’m going to find the right woman for me!”

He walked away across the open meadow with a look of full absence in the flat.

“Jay Bowland, you fucking bastard, get back here and fuck me like a man!”

He simply ignored it and hurried through the distant trees and disappeared.

Froy tried desperately to restrain himself as he literally left a pentagrammed and isolated Prissy behind and walked away.

Her camera was pointed straight at the light red part of the bound bride, her nectar-filled pussy looked gorgeous in the sunlight, and the girl’s hips squirmed as she tried to loosen the ropes that held her in place. The girl’s hips were squirming as she tried to loosen the ropes. Her labia were still parted and her blonde pubic hairs were twitching, each of them clearly visible, and her bloodied pink labia were glistening with a hint of glitter.

Floy was rapidly skilling the shutter, but didn’t notice an incoming roar of a car motor.

Her heart was beating rapidly and her legs were shaking involuntarily as she felt all wet between them.

Froy drifted, her mind going blank. She dropped the camera and slowly crawled forward on her hands and knees to the bound blonde’s splayed thighs. Her heartbeat accelerated.

Froi was now positioned right where Priss couldn’t see her, and even when Jay returned from the woods to where he had just left her, it was hard to spot her, hidden behind the thick, inverted sloping tree trunk.

The leaves rustled beneath Floy as he slowly approached.

“Jay, you bastard, I hear you, come out or I’ll stink you up!” Prissy struggled hard against the ropes binding her body.

Floy sneaked out of his jeans and already wet panties and slipped off his sweat-stained wet source rolled shirt again.

She lay prone, propped up on her elbows, easing her face between her spread thighs, her forehead pressed against Prissy’s sun-heated, red spank-marked, resilient buttocks, resting momentarily, inhaling the scent that emanated from her.

Then Floy puckered his lips and kissed at those two plump, tender pussy lips. Prissy’s whole body shook as if by a radio, and the tremor quickly traveled back to the tight, dense opening between her taut thighs.

“Jay, you pig, stop it. I think you’re crazy to stop licking.”

There was something so indescribably pleasurable about licking and kissing another woman’s pussy with lust Furnaney, despite Prissy’s protests, slipped his tongue back onto that bud of hers that was beginning to harden and kept licking and lapping at it, savoring the wonderfully infinite taste.

The hairs on the helpless girl’s body stood up in sweat, and her pussy spasmed regularly, which in turn stimulated Froi deeply. Electric shocks of pleasure erupted in a mountain of sensations, as if making love with a man, each of them getting excited by the other.

Floy kept lightly touching the swollen clitoris, and the tingling sensation all over Prissy’s body became more and more difficult to endure.

As Froi licked and kissed, an intensely irritating odor emanated from Prissy’s body that she herself could smell. This familiar odor was also the very thing that made Floy abhorrent, the kind that she looked forward to its demise every moment of every day.

Now this strong scent was filling Floy’s olfactory senses, even more so than the aroma of the French-born, poor Raymond-obsessed bath she wore.

Froy had gone crazy, reckless with this perversion, her mouth sucking unceasingly and her tongue constantly palming the engorged, soft musculature, her nose touching the moist, shiny pussy lips.

The pussy lips squirmed with each lick and suck of the tongue. Floy rose to her knees, but her mouth never left the struggling woman’s body. She kneaded Prissy’s soft ass cheeks with her hands and slowly felt her way to where she could reach, her fingers squirming more lasciviously in the slits on either side of Prissy’s throbbing labia and her lips sucking harder.

Prissy screamed and gasped with intent.

Floy broke off for a moment as it occurred to her that the woman’s yelling would most likely draw back her husband.

“Sniff, Jay, you’re the biggest player I know. Come fuck me, I want you.”

Floy suddenly saw a flickering figure in the bushes, she hurriedly grabbed her dress and covered her chest, her naked breasts were extremely healing from the fallen leaves she caught in her dress, she couldn’t help but gasp sharply.

Enchanted, Prissy’s screams, one louder than the other, as she begged with sobs, “Don’t stop, darling, take me!”

Floy guessed that Prissy was keeping her eyes closed, because she was still begging as Jay came smugly. His face was rippling with excitement, and his cock, like a gun to be competed with, was in gear.

With a calm demeanor, Jay silently walked around the trunk, reached out and peeled back the crack with his fingers, spread his legs, and aimed his cock hard at it.

Froy pressed the camera shutter again as the crimson glans plunged into the expectantly gaping vaginal opening.

Jay jerked violently, each stroke accompanied by screams and shudders from Prissy, her body squirming against the trunk.

Strongly, Jay suddenly jerked his cock out and stood up tight, his cock boinging cups in the sunlight as it continued to spurt outward in copious amounts of white grain.

Floy’s whole body throbbed as she took one last dew-stained close-up before collapsing onto the grass, sweat breaking out on her forehead as she lay down on the fallen leaves twitching noisily, the hunger inside her still unsatisfied.

She thought that she had been involved in so many wild sex acts that if she had the chance to encounter the best of them all, she might be able to achieve carnal fulfillment. She was wrong.

Seeing her earlier sexual partner, Prissy, lying on her back on the trunk of the tree spasmodically trembling, Floy couldn’t stand the unbearable sensation inside her. She rubbed her fingers over her sexual focus repeatedly, feeling the flavor.

The sight of Prissy’s tantalizing, sensual cunt opening closing and closing before her eyes, Floy still hadn’t gotten over the commotion.

Floy finally looked up and she looked over to see the couple sitting on the trunk of a tree, Prissy clinging to Jay’s arms still sobbing as she caressed and kissed him lovingly.

“You’re fantastic, honey! How did you know that was exactly what I wanted? Of all the lovemaking I’ve had this week, this was the only one that was the best, and there was nothing like it.”

Jay caressed her cheek just as tenderly, “Be still oh my heart.”

“Promise me you’ll tie me up again like you just did, whip me and lick me, and probe me again like you just did.”

He laughed out loud.

“Really? Honey. But I also only tied you up, beat you, and fucked you, I didn’t lick you.”

She pushed him playfully, “Liar, that’s you, that’s the best blowjob you’ve ever given me.”

Jay stared at her in slight surprise, “There’s definitely a vixen here, Heart.”

Floy almost screamed as she sat flat against the tree, her eyes glazed over and her temples quivering slightly. She lifted a hot, wet hand to hang and rub at her temples. She would rather be punished. But what was she to do with her book, which had not yet been published? She put her hand over her upturned head, closed her eyes, and whispered, “Oh, dear Maria, what am I going to do to myself?”

A horse’s neighing startled Floy Paynter and brought her back from her musings, and she hurriedly checked her camera, hid behind a tree trunk, and peeped out surreptitiously.

Crossing the clearing, she saw a bronzed man mounted on a tall Arabian stallion, dressed in white breeches, a black jacket, and a black balaclava, glancing from time to time in this direction. The sturdy Arabian stallion, with his satin mane, was wearing a red bridle and a polished brass buckle. All this certainly suggested power and money to Froy, and Froy wanted to know him.

The tall, majestic horse had been standing still when a couple, hand in hand, walked towards him as they strolled. The one on the horse lowered his head to speak to them. The young woman walked over and stroked the horse’s head and went to kiss it with her mouth. As she gently went to kiss the horse’s ears, the village’s curvaceous breasts in their thin shirts, all pressed against the horse, looked stunning in the dazzling sunlight. Again, she reached out uninhibitedly to her rider, who pulled her onto the horse’s back as she straddled the front of it with her legs spread wide.

Floy imagined what it would be like to ride on a horse: completely naked, with the long black mane of the horse gently tickling the open lips of her pussy. She couldn’t help but shiver.

The three men moved slowly toward where Floy was hiding, Jay leading the horse and Ramon riding with his arm around Prissy’s waist.

Floy heart welled up an unnamable emotion, and hot tears flowed down his face, what a cordial and harmonious, without any distractions between people, I believe it is more valuable than money.

Floy hurriedly pulled on her jeans, grabbed her shirt, and turned her back to the clearing. She was afraid of being spotted by them, feeling like a thief who had already stolen the experience she needed from Jay and Prissy and Little John.

Can she wash her hands of it now?

Her answer was no, the honorarium was too tempting to risk the amount of money she could get. She dared not close nor change her plans, she had to get more of Eastheart, even if it took more of Jay, Precious, and John to even go so far as to hurt Raymond Dewberry.

She didn’t have to concern herself with apologizing to them; they hadn’t suffered a loss. But she also hoped that Ramon would give her the same revenge. Either way, she wasn’t going to change her beliefs, and she had to keep up that cold, unfeeling facade, no matter how sad Ramon was.

Froi hurried across the open meadow, her mind still on the plan she had made. She was so distracted that she didn’t hear the clatter of horses’ hooves.

“Floyd, God, get out of the way in a hurry!”

She smiled inwardly. If Raymond Dewberry was trying to do a ride up to get her attention, he was going to be sorely disappointed.

The shout was louder, but with a reprimand, “Froy, look behind you.”

An irritated growl.

She turned hastily.

She was stunned by the appalling scene before her. A bull was roaring toward her, only a hundred paces away. It was followed by a man who was running as fast as he could.

She tried her best to stay calm and stand still, it was a stupid move, but she didn’t show panic.

The bull came closer and closer to her, and it let out a terrible roar.

Froi remained where she stood, she had survived when she was trapped in the valley of danger, she didn’t believe she would die by the horns of a bull.

As the bulls approached, she prayed and asked God to forgive her for the sins she had committed all week.

The moment the bull came roaring at her, she dodged violently to the side, and the dust that had risen from the field on the ground came crashing down on her with muddy stars.

A cow’s hooves roared past.

She looked up.

The bull couldn’t stop at a short distance and turned around.

A dark shadow sped past Floy. Raymond Dewberry overtook the bull at a fast clip and descended steadily.

The horse kept snorting loudly.

Ramon yelled.

The bull roared.

His body inclined to the side of the horse.

With his mastery of riding, Ramon turned his horse around. The Arabian stallion kicked at the approaching bull, which turned and ran away.

Shortly afterward, it stopped again, ready to launch itself at Froi.

“Floyd, get up here. Hurry up, you woman!”

She complied, this was no place to argue.

Ramon rode up to her and pulled her up violently.

Floy tugged tightly on the side straps of the saddle, lifting his thighs hard and straddling the horse.

Her legs were now spread wide and she was firmly mounted on the back of the muscular horse.

Ramon, like a tough pit bull of earth, turned his horse violently again, and the black horse galloped off in the direction of the hotel.

From behind them came the roar of a car engine. Floy glanced backward, only to see a jeep carrying six men hurrying that way.

Ramon silently tightened his arm around Froi’s waist while she clutched the horse’s mane.

He made the horse jog down.

Froy finally felt what she had just experienced when Prissy rode. The tough muscular body beneath her kept rubbing against her outer labia. There was also the overwhelming joy of being in the middle of nowhere, the feeling of Ramon’s tight backside, all of which excited Froy. Her heart raced and her temples quivered slightly.

With a brisk pace, he asked the stables to run.

They had reached the stables. Her Bentley sedan was parked in the motor room with the door open and two beat up minivans parked next to it. Ramon pulled his horse to a stop still not speaking. He was still holding her close, both arms circling her ribs. His face was pressed against her shoulder and he was breathing up and down.

Floy stretched her neck back. Floy gasped softly as her cheek touched Raymond’s warm face. His hot body leaned against her back, exhaling hot breath that traveled through her shirt and down to her chest.

“Thank you, Ramon, you’re so brave.”

“It’s nothing. Thank God I can trust you that close.”

His breath brushed against her hair.

She patted the horse’s neck with her hand. “It’s so pretty looking, what’s its name?”

“Charlemagne.”

“How long have you owned it?” It was small talk. His arms were still wrapped around her, her breasts nestled comfortably against his wrists. He wanted an excuse to stay on, but also to give himself a pretext so he could continue to wrap his arms around her.

“Charlemagne is my father’s horse, he was picked up for breeding purposes, and there will be another mare in the morning. Would you like to see how they breed their offspring?”

Floy shuddered slightly, knowing full well that Ramon must have sensed that he was coaxing her with flowery words and intentionally titillating her with talk of horse coitus. Inviting her along to watch was actually a hint to make her agree to be with him. In the stables? To have sex with her in the middle of a smelly stable?

Why can’t she just be honest and say yes, Ramon. I understand what you want. Then come to my room and fuck me like that bull and this stallion.

But that would make it impossible to continue working. It was clear to her that this would not work. She had further plans to carry out, to irritate him, to make him as enraged as that bull. Only then would she be able to acquire what she wanted, and she would have to take it no matter what.

“How did that bull get out?”

“I don’t know, something must have spooked it.”

“But why did it attack me?”

It was a bit of an inexplicable question, as if it had been planned in advance; there was only one pattern to the many times the two of them had talked; courteous, irresponsible, or inscrutable.

The Froys straddled the horse, Ramon’s hand still wrapped tightly around it, and didn’t seem to have the slightest intention of dismounting.

“You apparently irritated Jasper?”

“Jaspy?”

He laughed.

“That’s the bull.”

“Are you kidding me, how did I irritate it? What’s wrong with me?”

Ramon let go of one hand and let it slowly slide down her lower abdomen and slip between her legs. Floy felt hot, wet surges there again. On one side she wished out of excitement that his hand would stay there, but on the other she wanted to row desperately to get away from it, just as John had avoided her. She feared that Raymond Dewberry would pounce on her hard. She wasn’t afraid to face the bull, but she was a little timid about the man in front of her and the world of emotions she was about to be aroused by.

“That cow must have caught the scent of you, and he knew enough to come half a mile in the heat to chase a cow for a woman.”

His hand still pressed nervously between Floy’s thighs. Floy’s body shifted back as she tried to get him to put his hand down her pants to stroke her already engorged and swollen labia, to tweak her distended clit, and she gasped and closed her eyes.

Suddenly, a wave of trepidation swarmed up from the bottom of his heart.

All at once she straightened up, straddled the horse’s mane, jumped to the ground, and ran off in a huff.

Ramon was instantly frustrated, and he rode on his horse pondering how he could capture this foxy Floy Paynter.

Ramon lifted his hand to his nose and he caught a strong whiff of odor. It was the softness of his hand pressing against hers. The hot crack left behind when it rolled.

It seemed the timing was right; she had leaned her body into him, showing that she liked him, that he caressed her, and that it was a natural thing for her to panic and escape.

And she was looking for a topic of conversation, trying to prolong the contact between the two of them. When he mentioned the Charlemagne mating, he felt her shudder. He watched out as her temples tensed and both legs clamped the horse tighter while her heart beat harder against his wrist and her breasts rose.

He was sure the test was the right way to go when she asked about the subject of the bull shed being attracted to her, and her bottom was soaking wet. He had guessed that she must have spied on what the young couple was doing on the lawn. The first time he’d seen her, she’d been hiding so close to them in the woods and must have witnessed the couple’s wild sexual indulgences at this point.

Even Jay Bowland’s insertion of his pastoral phallus inside sexy Prissy, and the tying of her to a tree, were pleasurably spied on by Floy.

Ramon had watched everything through his binoculars as he approached the clearing, and his horse seemed to pick up their scent, flaring its nostrils and arching and scratching at the ground.

At first, he thought it was a casual encounter with a sexual indulgence, and when he recognized it as his guest, Ground smiled in relief.

His door is really young. Why don’t they have a good time in their room? Is it to find memories that will last a lifetime? All the premature obligations, bad checks, children and broken cars will leave them emotionally and financially scarred.

Jay might be able to find another lover and be just as wild, clean, suck and fuck as he was with Prissy, and then rejoice. Prissy, on the other hand, will be stuck at home with her family.

Jay might leave her and start over with a new Raw Jade, as many men are sexually inclined to do.

But what about himself and Floy Paynter? He didn’t even have a beginning with her.

While it appeared that he had been involved in his nightlife for the past few days, it had done nothing to alleviate her apathetic attitude since day one.

She had slipped from his grasp once again, and the only thing he had left now was the sensual scent of his hands.

Just now he was plastered to her back on the upturned horse and it nearly stood upright.

The horse seemed to have picked up her body odor as well, one hoof was stamping the ground and Ramon patted him on the black neck, the stallion seemed disappointed as well.

At least it’ll leave tomorrow contented.

Yet not as fruitless as himself and Floy Paynter.

But he couldn’t think of any way to maintain the situation, he had lost control. As an expert horseman, he knew how to get a mare to lower her head, but with Froi, he was at a loss; she was so stubborn and willful, and her temperament was so volatile that she was difficult to handle.

He would see what Miss Painter did tonight and then decide on his plans. Perhaps he would have to abandon his plan of making love to her and treat her roughly. If it was what he thought it would be, he’d have to get over her as soon as possible and come back to Jenny’s good “book” and sleep with her.

At least Jenny was more innocent, she seemed so sentimental and always annoyed that he was putting his interest in other women. She was practically like a steam engine in bed. Burning and exhaling and thrusting rhythmically. Her secret slit opening was small and tight with the most amazing muscular mucous membrane. She was still able to hold his prickfuck and suck on it, but somehow it was always like something was most missing, no matter how much she kissed him and wanted him, but he was never satisfied.

And as soon as he laid eyes on Floy Paynter, he knew in his gut that there was an element in her that he’d been looking for, that she made him horny and made his temples quake, but that wasn’t all. In a way they were more like a matched pair of lovers, or maybe Floy didn’t see it that way. Ramon had sensed that she had penetrated deep into his soul and he wanted to be with her forever.

He also wanted to woo her more than anything else, sometimes he wanted to thrust his cock into her with abandon, sometimes he wanted to lick all over her wonderful, wonderful body. He also wanted her mind, her emotions and her intelligence. He also wanted her soul.

Showing her extraordinary intelligence through her work was a great challenge to him, and there was hardly a woman he knew who was more challenging.

And the fact that she wanted him too, or might.

But this vixen was too hard to come by. Maybe she was a self-repressed homosexual, or maybe she detested his manliness, there might be something else he couldn’t figure out.

Jenny, by contrast, would be easier to get hold of. Needless to say she herself would be the first to come running, he didn’t even need to pursue her. When he and she were ready to make love, she would stroke his manhood to get it excited. She would make him so hard and taut that she was afraid that if he went out he would be seen by the guests with his obvious bulge.

Sometimes in the office, she risked being seen and slipped her hand down his pants, as if such an adventure would turn her on. Once in the kitchen, she was on her knees on the floor, pulling out his cock and sucking on it, just as a customer came in, and she hurriedly pretended to look for a dropped pot lid, and Ramon hurriedly grabbed a spare apron to cover his wet cock.

Yeah, Jenny is just so easy to get into. She’s needy like a normal person, not like the inscrutable, deflating and disappointing Ms. Painter.

Floy stood against the door of the bedroom. The bull, the stallion, and Raymond just now. Socialberry, still made her shiver to this day. She stroked between her thighs that still retained the residual warmth of Ramon Dewberry.

She sighed anxiously, why did God only just realize this process she had gone through? If she hadn’t agreed to write the damn book, she wouldn’t be here now. She wanted to ask the publisher to find another job. But, thinking about money, this publisher had a way with selling rights.

If the book was sold to a movie studio or TV station, it would bring in millions of dollars in profit. She has no lodging option but to do her best to finish the manuscript as soon as possible. She rethinks the plot and scenes of the novel, whether to write it as a mere mystery, murder, or suspense.

She smiled in disbelief, was there really such a thing as a mere mystery, murder, or suspense? Was there such a thing in everyday life, full of human emotions?

Floy was ready to take a shower, but dismissed the idea, she didn’t want to wash away the scent that Ramon Dewberry had left behind. She wanted to stay longer and fully enjoy the very sexy odor.

She changed into a pair of clean jeans and threw on a short, white, loose-fitting shirt, and now she was going to meditate for a while. Running away from him like a ridiculous schoolgirl earlier had been stupid and unexpected.

He would see her as a coward. He would also have sensed that she liked to have his arms around her, liked to have him touch that wet, wet place. He must have felt her whole body heat up like an animal in heat.

But she had to thank him for saving her life anyway.

There was a cacophony of talking coming from Raymond Dewberry’s office.

“Yes. Mr. Dewberry. No, Mr. Duberry. But what can I do, Mr. Duberry.”

Floy pushed the receptionist’s hand away from stopping her with force. As an important guest at the hotel, Mr. Dewberry shouldn’t have to watch coldly from the sidelines as he reprimanded the staff. Floy Paynter has to match the reputation she enjoys in her daily life.

When she pushed the office door open with a jerk, she was surprised to find the Bowlanders standing there like two students facing an irritated principal.

Floyd’s scalp tingled, certain that Duberry was warning them to stop being naked in the woods.

Ramon glanced up quickly as she entered.

“Please wait, Ms. Painter, I’m in the middle of something.”

Floy didn’t move.

“I need to see you, I need that diamond necklace tonight. I’m having dinner with a guest.” In actuality it was a lie, but why lie, she was such a vixen.

Dewberry ignored her. This annoyed Floy a little, but she had to wait it out.

“I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Borland. You must pay the bill for the car repair. The mechanic fixed your car and he wants the bill.” Raymond waved a thin slip of paper at them.

“But we can’t pay that much, we only pay a reasonable price, and that bill is just too high.”

Prissy’s eyes were covered with tears, which slid down her face as she turned to see Froi.

Pressing on, she turned her face back to Dewberry.

Ramon broke the pendulum inexorably.

“Never mind, I’ll just have to write a check for it, and you guys pay that repairman what you have.”

Prissy looked at Jay and then to Dewberry, “We have nothing left except the little money that Jay had saved up to get ready for work. We wanted to come on the best honeymoon ever and make some great memories.”

Dewberry took a deep breath, “Then I really can’t help. Your car needs repairs too, and you’re the ones who asked me to call the mechanic.”

Mr. and Mrs. Bowland said almost simultaneously, “Yes, but we didn’t think it would cost that much.”

“So. I’m sorry, you’ll have to move the deposit.”

Dewberry stood up, facing Floy seemed to open the safe.

“By the way, Miss Painter, which kind of jewelry did you say you wanted?”

Floy waved a hand.

“Wait, Mr. Dewberry, how much does this total?”

At that moment, all three pairs of eyes stared at her in slight surprise at the same time.

“Three hundred and fifty pounds.”

She straightened up, “Put it on my tab. Now can I pick up the diamond necklace?”

All three mouths fell open in shock, Precious being the first to react.

“But …… but you can’t do that, that’s very generous, but ……”

“It’s okay, if you feel bad about it, just think of it as a loan. Just give it back to me later when Jay has accomplished something. Mr. Dewberry will give you my address.”

Floy spoke to Prissy with a smile and touched her cheek lovingly.

“You are so beautiful, looking to envy you as well as vibrant love. I don’t want to see you sad, you deserve a good start. Keep the fat deposit, use it for the best, and I wish you all the best.”

Ramon handed over the box with the diamond necklace, his mouth still wide open, amazed at Froi’s actions. Painter traced a cross on Precious’ forehead with two fingers, then picked up the jewelry box and walked away.

(End of text)