by Ray Gordon
"You're so sensitive to a woman's needs, Mike."
"I have my moments."
"You'd better test me out properly, put me through my paces. We don't want the clients complaining, do we?"
"Er... no, of course not!" he grinned, unzipping his trousers.
Pulling his foreskin back, Mike exposed his purple glans proudly to Nancy's appreciative gaze. Taking his veined shaft in her warm hand, she ran his knob up and down her girl slit, her outer lips engorging, her lust juices decanting as her arousal soared. Moving forward, her rounded buttocks over the edge of the sofa, she slipped his knob between her wet inner lips, taking his bulbous glans into the heat of her yearning cunt. Gasping as she closed her eyes, drifting in her excitation, she gently pulled the base of his penis closer, his shaft gliding into her quivering body until his balls came to rest against her taut buttocks.
Looking down at the satisfying union, Mike focused on her stretched, pinken inner lips, lovingly hugging the root of his rampant cock. Gently parting her sex crack with his thumbs, he gazed at her solid clitoris, emerging invitingly from its protective hide. Her stomach rising and falling as he caressed her sex nodule, she began to breathe deeply, her mouth open, her head turned to one side as she gave herself completely.
She was too good to sell! Mike thought as he continued his clitoral massaging, her cunt palpitating, rhythmically gripping his motionless, rock-hard shaft. Lovingly pinching and pulling on her sensitive nipples, she licked her dry lips, sinking into a pool of sensuality as her clitoris pulsated beneath Mike's caressing fingertip.
There was an unusual air of eroticism about her, he mused. She wasn't to be sold, fucked crudely, tethered and whipped - she was to be taken gently, lovingly. Perhaps he should save her for the romantic type. Himself?
Her husband's loss was his gain, he concluded as he withdrew his slippery shaft until her inner lips lovingly embraced his glans. Driving into her again, dragging her inner petals into the wetness of her sex sheath, he imagined her husband taking the au pair. Au pairs were two a penny, to be fucked hurriedly, crudely. Au pairs floated from country to country with their baggage, their pussies, being fucked here and there on their travels. Here today, gone tomorrow - come today, come mañana.
This woman wasn't just a fuck - she held a mysterious fascination for him. Elizabeth had taken his fancy, sucked his sperm into her vagina, roused something. Perhaps her royal status had captivated him? he reflected. But what was it about Nancy that enchanted him so? he pondered. There was far more to this little beauty than her tight cunt!
"That's nice," she whispered as he massaged her throbbing clitoris faster and repeatedly drove his glans deep into her slippery duct. "Mmm, it's been so long."
"Your husband, didn't he..."
"Yes, but not like this! A few grunts and thrusts and it was over! You're obviously a professional."
A professional? She was a professional, too, Mike decided. Her suspender belt decorating her naked hips, her legs splayed, her undulating muscles sucking his glans deep into her hot body, she was all woman, the epitome of femininity.
"A little faster now," she murmured, her fingers and thumbs tweaking her erect nipples. "A little harder."
"God, you're tight," Mike smiled. "And so wet!"
"And you're so big! Ah, yes, that's nice!" she gasped, her naked body jolting as he drove into her again and again. "You're so perceptive to the clitoral needs of a woman. Oh, oh! Keep rubbing me, I'm nearly there!"
The likes of electricians and plumbers weren't going to get anywhere near this classy bitch! Mike decided as she bit her lip and lurched forward, her body becoming rigid. Shaking violently, her hands snatched from her firm breasts to grip the sofa cushion, she tightened her sex muscles, gripping Mike's thrusting shaft like a velvet-jawed vice. No - the ragged plebs weren't going to use this vagina as a wanking pot! Nancy had to pay her way, but the money would come from professional men, discerning men who appreciated the female form, who would lovingly massage her sweet pussy with their penises and bathe her inner flesh with sperm - not shag her to pieces like a rag doll!
"I'm going to come," she breathed, her face flushing, her nostrils flaring as she arched her back. "Ah, oh, that's so good!"
"God, you're beautiful!" Mike gasped as his knob ballooned and his sperm coursed its way up his shaft, exploding from his throbbing glans. "Ah, I'm there! Ah, God!"
His penile thrusting rocking her glowing body, his spunk lubricating her sex cylinder, Mike vibrated his fingertips faster over her orgasming clitoris. Lifting her legs, she placed her feet over his shoulders, her outer cunny lips bulging, tightly hugging his pistoning shaft as he took her ever higher to her orgasmic heaven.
"Don't stop!" she cried as he massaged her ever flowering cherry and drove his sex hose deep into her convulsing cunt, bathing her hot cervix with his sperm. "Ah, don't stop! Keep me coming!"
"I will! I will!" he grunted, his draining balls slapping her taut buttocks as he continued his beautiful cervical pounding.
The last of his spunk jetting from his swollen knob, he slowed his thrusting rhythm, bringing her gently down from her paradise. Her head lolling from side to side as he massaged the final ripples of sex from her engorged clitoris, she fell limp, her breathing slow, deep in her satisfaction.
Withdrawing his marinated cock from her burning sex sheath, Mike lowered her legs and sat on his heels, gazing at his sperm oozing from her inflamed pussy hole. She'd been well and truly fucked, he thought happily. She'd passed the test, gone through her paces and come out with flying colours.
"That was heavenly!" she murmured as she opened her glazed eyes and focused on Mike. "God, that was beautiful!"
"You're beautiful!" Mike grinned. "Incredibly beautiful!"
"Cleanse me now. Please, cleanse me with your tongue," she begged huskily. "Lick me clean."
Lowering his head as she parted her wet rubicund pussy lips, opening her sperm-drenched cuntal portal, Mike lapped up the heady products of their orgasms. Her head back, she gasped as his tongue repeatedly swept over her ripening clitoris, arousing her again as she began to tremble with the incredible pre-orgasmic sensations coursing through her contracting womb.
"God, I'm going to come again!" she cried as he drove three fingers into the wet heat of her tightening vagina. "Oh, oh, I'm going to... I'm coming!" Never having witnessed female ejaculation, Mike snatched his fingers out of her spasming sheath and excitedly lapped up the girl-come gushing from her steaming vagina. She really was something else! he marvelled as she writhed and squirmed in her sexual ecstasy. Never before had he seen a woman experience such an intense orgasm and, as she gripped his head between her smooth thighs, he thought he'd drown in her copious lust juices.
Finally moving his molten mouth away from her volcanic sex centre, he licked his lips, gazing in awe at the woman as she massaged her clitoris to another mind-blowing climax. The sofa absorbing her flowing sex fluid, her legs splayed, she screamed as her very soul rocked in her incredible coming. Reaching beneath her thigh with her free hand, she thrust four fingers into her foaming vaginal sheath, sustaining her multiple orgasm as Mike looked on in wonderment.
"By gad!" the colonel cried as he wandered into the bar, his moustache twitching wildly in his excitement. "Good grief, old man, what the deuce is going on?"
"Ah, Colonel!" Mike grinned sheepishly as he rose to his feet and zipped his trousers. "I was just... er, come into the dining room."
Ushering the flabbergasted man through the doorway, Mike glanced back at Nancy. Oblivious as to what was going on, she continued her fervent finger fucking, her clitoral massaging, bringing out another series of orgasmic shockwaves as she gasped her pleasure. She's something else!
"By Jove!" the colonel breathed. "A naked woman masturbating in the bar? This place is looking up, old man!"
"She... she's the hotel ghost," Mike blurted out, wishing he hadn't.
"Ghost? She's no ghost, old boy, she's as real as you and me! What a crack
she has on her! And get an eye full of her titties! What!"
"No, no she's not real!" Mike remonstrated, yanking the colonel out of eyeshot of the sordid scene. "I've seen her many times, she drifts around naked and, on the odd occasion, she masturbates."
"Let's go back and have a look at her juicy crack. I haven't watched a woman masturbate since way back in forty-two when I was..."
"No, no! Er... how was your breakfast?"
"I haven't had my breakfast, yet. By Jove, eight-thirty, and no breakfast!"
"Go into the dining room and I'll see what the chef's up to."
"What about the masturbating ghost? Aren't we going to..."
"She'll be gone by now. The next time she appears, I'll let you know and you can watch her. Go into the dining room and I'll have your breakfast sent in."
Shaking his head as the old letch wandered into the dining room, Mike returned to the bar to discover Nancy dressing. "Did someone come in?" she asked bashfully, rolling her stockings up her long legs. "I thought I heard angels' voices."
"Er... no, it was me. Nancy, you're incredible! I've never seen a woman come like that before!"
"I'm well practised in the art of masturbation. I've been doing it for years, and I've got it to a fine M."
"You certainly have! Good God, never have I seen so much pussy juice!"
"Practice makes perfect, as they say," she smiled, buttoning her blouse.
"Look, I've got to go to the kitchen and kick my chef in the bollocks. I'll see you later."
"Yes, all right. When's breakfast?"
"Any time between now and this evening, knowing my chef! Go through to the dining room and I'll see what's he's up to."
"All right. And, Mike - thanks."
"Thank you, Nancy!"
Floating into the foyer, Mike recalled the incredible sight of Nancy masturbating, her fingers delving into her drenched pussy as she massaged her clitoris to fruition. Christ, I hope the colonel doesn't recognize her. She really was special and there was no way he was going to let grubby tradesmen defile her. Or the male members of his staff, he thought, entering the kitchen and frowning at Dave wielding a screwdriver.
"What are you up to?" he demanded. "Fuck my arse, what's that fucking stench, burning rubber?"
"I'm trying to fix the bloody toaster," Dave grumbled. "I turned it on and smoke poured out of the damn thing!"
"Shit, I think it is burning rubber! What the hell are you cooking, a pair of prostitute's rubber knickers?"
"There's something stuck in the toaster."
"What about the breakfasts?"
"Yes, I'll do them in a minute."
"Dave, it's nearly twenty to nine! You'll have to leave the toaster and get the breakfasts out of the way, otherwise the colonel will start complaining."
"Ah, look, there's the problem - an old condom! Argh, it's been used!"
"A used condom in the toaster? Bloody hell, how on earth did that get in there?"
"Oh, I remember. Yesterday I was... yes, well, it's OK now."
"I think someone's just come in. Stop fiddling with that bloody thing and hurry up with the breakfasts or I'll toast your cock!"
Entering the foyer, Mike gazed at his ex-wife as she hovered by the desk. Memories flooding back as she turned to face him, fond, diabolical - all diabolical! - he smiled. Her makeup immaculate, her long auburn hair shining, well-groomed, she was still a good-looking woman. Shame about her nagging mouth.
"Hi, Mike!" she beamed, holding her hand out to greet him, her white blouse partially open, revealing her deep cleavage.
"Belinda! You're earlier than I'd expected," he smiled, shaking her hand.
"Yes, I wanted to avoid the traffic. What's that smell? Is it burning rubber?"
"Er, yes, it is. The chef... never mind. So, how are things? Oh, come through to the bar, it'll be more comfortable than standing out here."
Leading the way, Mike found himself recalling his wife's naked body, her pert breasts, her wedge-shaped nipples - her well-formed, full vaginal lips. When they'd first met, he'd talked her into shaving her pubic hair. She'd been delighted by the appearance of her smooth vaginal lips and had continued to shave regularly. Was she smooth and hairless now? he wondered as she sat down, her short red skirt riding up her slim thighs. Was her cunt shaved?
"How's business?" she asked as he sat opposite her.
"So, so. It's been a struggle, financially, but things are beginning to look up."
"I hope you don't mind my saying so, but this place seems rather seedy."
She hasn't changed. "Yes, it's very seedy. Did you have a good journey?"
"Not bad, thanks. How's your private life? Do you have a special lady friend?"
"Good grief, no!" he laughed.
"Oh, why not?"
"Why go out with Una when I can go out with Polly?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Why go out with one when... never mind. What about you? Do you have a special male friend?"
"No, no one special. There have been one or two, but nothing serious."
"How's your job?"
"Pretty good, I'm now sales director."
"Oh, you are doing well!"
"Far better than you, by the look of it. What happened to that slag you went off with?"
"Tina? Er, nothing much. So, how long are you here for?" Mike asked, trying to change the subject.
"A day or two. Good at sex, was she?"
Here we go. "Sorry?"
"That slut you left me for - good in bed, was she?"
"I really can't remember, Belinda. You're looking nice. I like your hair, the thirties look suits you."
"You never paid me any compliments when we were married."
"That was a long time ago. Well, I suppose I'd better get on, I've a lot to do."
"How old was she, fifteen?"
"Who?"
"That common tart."
"I really can't remember, Belinda. Have you had breakfast?" he cross-fired, noticing the all too familiar signs of anger in her expression, the hellfire of a woman scorned burning in her green eyes.
"Of course, a hotel would suit you down to the ground, wouldn't it?"
"Why do you say that?"
"You can screw away to your heart's content. What with waitresses and guests, I suppose you screw..."
"Oh, I'd better show you your room. It's a nice room, bright and airy with a sea view. It's on the third floor, so don't lean too far out of the window," he smiled, an evil idea manifesting.
"I heard that you'd taken up with a factory girl."
"No, no! A factory girl, indeed! My God, the rumours used to be rife, didn't they?"
"I heard that it was some little strumpet who spent her days pulling a handle to make holes in cardboard boxes."
"Did you have the conservatory built? I know it was something you always wanted."
"Yes, I did. Do you remember that rumour about you and the woman across the road?"
"Er... no, I don't."
"Yes you do, Mike. All the neighbours were talking about you sneaking into her house after her husband had..."
"All I did was repair her central heating pump!"
"They didn't have central heating."
"Would you like breakfast now?" I can do you a nice mix of stale muesli and rat poison.
"I thought I'd missed breakfast."
"Missed breakfast? Good God, the guests think breakfast's early if they get it by lunch time!" Mike laughed, moving to the door. "Go through to the dining room and I'll see what my incompetent chef's doing."
"I hope you'll have the time for a chat later."
"Yes, yes of course. Early mornings aren't easy, what with breakfast and cookers exploding and everything."
"Do you have a copy of the local paper? I'd like to see what's on in town this evening."
"Er... there's no local paper this week, they're on strike."
"Oh, what a shame."
"I'll show you to your room later."
"There's
so much we have to talk about, Mike."
"Er... yes."
"There are so many unanswered questions, unsolved rumours."
"Yes, I suppose there are." I don't need this shit!
Taking refuge in the kitchen as Belinda entered the dining room, Mike cast his eyes around the room and shook his head. Smoke billowing from the toaster, the oil in the frying pan close to ignition point, several raw eggs splattered over the floor, the place looked as if a bomb had hit it.
"Ah, Mike, all under control!" Dave beamed, egg shells crunching beneath his feet as he turned the gas down.
"Under control, my... Christ, Dave, what the hell is it with you? Look at this fucking place! If the environmental health bastards were to see this they'd go environmentally mental!"
"It's OK, believe me. Look - toast, fried eggs, sausages, baked beans..."
"Char-grilled bread, fried scum, blackened pigs' dicks and boiled beans, more like! I ought to rough you up for your incompetence! By the way, my ex-wife's staying and, from what I can remember, she doesn't like her eggs covered in phlegm or her sausages underdone, reminiscent of spent pricks. Not that that'll be a problem with your bloody flame-grilled, char-burned offerings!"
"I'll see to it that she has the best breakfast ever."
"You'd better! She's already started having a go at me! Right, I have things to do, I'll see you later. And don't wank in the beans!"
"Mike, would I do that?"
"Yes, knowing you! Oh, remind me to sack you later."
"Will do."
Slumped at the reception desk, Mike remembered that the glass washer and other goods were being delivered that morning. And there were two Mr Smiths arriving that night. Christ, I'll need another fully equipped sex room, he reflected. There was no way he'd ever be ready in time for the clients, he thought sadly. Paul was probably unconscious, so he'd be of no use. Why is life so bloody hard?
Chapter Seven
In usual fashion, the morning wasn't going too well at Stokepot Towers. Belinda was still in the dining room impatiently awaiting her breakfast, Cecilia was cleaning the hotel from top to bottom and, complaining about being broke, Nancy was desperate to start her new job. Mike had promised her that she'd be working that evening and had given her fifty pounds up front to appease her. But he suspected that it was the sex, not the money, that she was desperate for.