Chapter 7
"Did you and Mrs. Alston enjoy your dinner, Mr. Alston?"
"Very much," John said. "You were right- the lobster was better than good." He showed the hotel's dining room cashier his room key.
"Oh I don't need to see that anymore, Mr. Alston. We know you."
"You know, I've been wondering about that," Rosalind said. "How do you know our names?"
The woman smiled. "I took the trouble to find out who the nice couple in eleven-oh-seven are. And I remembered. Isn't it fun to be called by name where you're total strangers?"
"More than you know," Rosalind Alston said, with a secret smile and a swift swerve of her eyes toward John. "But-why? I mean, why'd you... check on us?"
"Oh, I wasn't checking on you, Mrs. Alston," the woman said, smiling. "You two have made a hit with the waitresses, the busboys and me. You're nice to everybody. You're also nice to each other; we've all noticed. You aren't children, but it's obvious that you're in love. We've had honeymooners here who were less obvious about their love for each other."
John chuckled. "Maybe we should pretend we don't like each other-so as not to draw attention."
The woman behind the counter looked as if she wanted to reach out and grab his hand. She didn't. "Oh please don't! We see enough of that-people who are married and don't even talk to each other. They're surly or downright mean to the help... and all of us hear them pecking, pecking at each other. You people are unique. Please stay that way." She looked down. "Now I've said too much. I'm sorry."
Roz touched her hand. "For what? For making us feel even better than we do? Where's the rule that says everything has to be cool and impersonal in hotels?"
The cashier smiled into her eyes. "You two have been breaking that rule ever since you checked in." She gnawed her lip, looking hesitant and a little nervous. Then she made up her mind. "May-may I ask you a question?"
"Sure," John said, feeling pretty strange; personal conversations with people whose sole job was to take his money were unusual.
"Could... could I ask how long you two have been married?"
John chuckled; Roz laughed. "Martha," she said, picking up the woman's name from the tag on her blouse, "if we answer that it might hurt our image with you."
Martha frowned, obviously not understanding.
Roz leaned forward across the counter, beckoned; Martha leaned toward her in the same conspiratorial manner.
"Promise not to tell," Roz whispered into the woman's ear, "but we're newlyweds."
"I'll be darned," Martha said, beaming and Mr. and Mrs. John Alston, smiling, left the dining room. Hand in hand, as usual.
No wonder she's glowing, Martha thought. That handsome dog in love with her and him with his body intact-he must be over thirty and my John's been adding more and more pot ever since he was twenty-five. Gee... newly-weds! What I wouldn't give to be a gnat on the wall of their room tonight... or just to be her, in the dark with that nice good-looking loving man!
And Martha leaned back from the counter, gazing wistfully after the couple, her hands folded unconsciously over her pot belly.
"You know that's one of the first, the very first things I noticed about you," Roz said, as they rode up on the elevator; it was automatic and they happened to have it to themselves. That wasn't unusual, as they'd eaten very late and had been the next to last people in the dining room.
John asked, "What?" He was fondling his wife's ass through the short skirt of her new dress. It was gauzy, brand new and Roz identified it as "the daring one." It displayed a good deal of breast and a lot of leg.
"Your being nice to everyone. Waitresses, bus-boys, cashiers, you know-the so-called little people most people are so tough with, because they can get away with it."
"I once helped an old lady across the street, too."
She laughed and was hugging him when the elevator stopped and the doors opened. They held hands as they walked down the hall to their room.
Inside, she asked, "What time is it?"
"Quarter of eleven."
"Whew! Late! Time for bed!"
John Alston chuckled. "That's where we've spent most of our time already, baby."
She was squatting beside the TV, fiddling with the dial that brought in music, not the television. "Where else," she asked, turning half around. "We're on our honeymoon, after all!"
"Some people go to see the sights."
"Oh." She got the FM station they liked. "Want to go see some sights?"
He spoke close to hand, having come up immediately behind her. "I'm seeing one of the star attractions right now," he said. "Two."
She looked up. He was looking down into her decollete dress. She smiled.
"I see a couple of snow-capped mountains," he told her, in the nearest he could come to poetry. "And Grand Canyon." "Must be nice," she said, staying where she was so as not to interrupt his fun. "All I see is a telephone pole."
"Bitch! A what?"
"A candy stick. A lollipop. A great big bone, though definitely not one for a dog."
He bent over and pushed both hands into the front of her dress. "My God woman, you are shameless. To think, my sweet darling bride talks that way."
"Me shameless," she said, leaning her head back against his crotch. "How can I be called shameless by a guy who's got both his big hairy hands down my dress?"
"Doing what?"
"Getting me all hot and prickly," she answered.
"Doing what?"
"Turning me on!"
"Doing what?"
"Playing with my titties."
He chuckled and squeezed. "That's what I wanted to hear. I love the way you always say 'titties.'"
"I love the way you can't keep your hands off 'em."
He raked each nipple with a finger tip, felt her tremble against him. "I think you were right in the first place," he told her.
She strained her neck, looking back and up at him. "What? About what?"
"Whew," he said, imitating, pressing her breasts. "It's late. Time for bed!"
"Great!" She kissed his wrist. "How about letting me get up out of this squat before both legs die and drop off at the knees?"
"Since you put it that way," he said and straightened, tugging at her tits.
She allowed herself to be pulled up that way.
"You know-if I weren't wearing this brand-new dress I'd just leave it on and let you amuse yourself."
"I assure you, Mizziz Alston, I can amuse myself without the dress."
"Uh-huh." She put her head on one side. "I'll bet it's twice as sexy and twice as much fun with me clothed though, isn't it? You've been eyeballing me in this dress ever since I put it on. I was afraid we'd never even get to the dining room."
"You almost didn't, but I hated to tie up the elevator." He extricated his hands from her bodice. "You've never looked sexier."
"Never?"
"Never with clothes on, I mean," he amended.
Roz laughed. Then, "But... it's sexier with clothes on though, isn't it? I mean, a nudist camp wouldn't really be sexy, would it, with everything showing all the time."
"Like hell!" She laughed. "After the first few days, I mean."
"You're right. The sexiest picture I've seen in Penthouse in about two years was right in the middle of a nude spread. A spreading nude spread. In that one picture, she had on panties. Itsy bitsy ones-white, I think."
"And that was more a turn-on than the naked shots."
He nodded. "Sexier'n the crotch shots. Bet we'll be going back to those in a few years, after everybody gets tired of seeing how far they can go and showing nothing but nudies, spreading."
"What's that called?"
"What?"
"Nude ladies, spreading."
"Ladies?"
"I'm no judge," she shrugged. "Are you?"
He grinned. "Touche. Another blow struck for womanhood and lady-dom, including nude spreadies. I mean spread nudies. Anyhow, it's called 'split beaver.'"
"Oh yeah." She made a face. "Yugh. That's icky." She thought a moment, then asked, "Hey-what's it called when it's nude men? Spread beaver tails?"
"Beats me. Ask Helen Gurley whatsis, or that stagey blonde that edits the other one-Play girl. They probably have a word for their male nudes. Surely not beefcake, anymore."
"That full-page color ad of all the athletes modeling all kinds of male underwear, shorts and briefs and so on, is a lot sexier than the naked Burt Reynolds-or any of the others, especially the super-muscled ones."
He smiled and nodded. "So we'll get me some sexy-colored briefs-and some and so on, too. And heaven knows what I may wind up getting you."
"Promise?"
He replied by pulling her to him, utterly enveloping her in his arms and then totally enveloping her lips with his.
They were panting when they parted. "I have to go to the bathroom. And then I am getting out of this dress!"
"Get out of the dress first," he said, smiling.
She looked a silent question up into his face.
He shrugged. "I want to watch you walk in bra and panties," he said. "I haven't seen you that way, all that much."
She grinned. "OK, Mr. Alston. And when I come out of the bathroom-how about if you're wearing your shorts? Period. I haven't seen you that way all that much, you know."
He watched while she stripped off the dress, while she hung it carefully in the closet. He watched the way her breasts rippled within the bra and how her round buttocks clenched and hollowed at the hip, tightening up her panties with her every movement. Aware of his gaze, she pranced a little on the way to the bathroom, exaggeratedly rolling her hips and clenching, then releasing each ass cheek with her steps. He made animal noises and she giggled as she entered the bathroom. She turned on the heat lamp that felt so nice, resolving, like millions before her, to have one in her own bathroom someday.
When she emerged, he was wearing a pair of plain white briefs. He was posed, wearing also a supercilious look. "Don't turn off the light," he said and she didn't. He turned off the lights in the room; the one in the bathroom was perfect. Pressing together, they kissed and rubbed and fondled each other through their underclothes for a long while. He couldn't stand the bra; he wanted the breasts he loved naked. He complimented her constantly on them and about everything else about herself; with this man, Roz was gaining confidence.
When he had the bra off and was starting to play with her warm breasts, she decided to act on something she'd been thinking about doing for a long while, for months in fact, ever since the second time they had made love-which was two nights after the first time. The best way to go about it seemed to be just to do it.
She let her knees bend and slid down to the carpet. His hands clung briefly, stretching her breasts upward, still humid from the bra. They slipped free of his hands. Hers were at his hips and as she went to her knees she drew his shorts down with her.
She laced her fingers around it, a longish fleshy rope emerging from his bush of pubic hair and tipped with a mushrooming head of a deep, lurid pink. It was thick, though not erect; about halfway there.
"Ummmmm... it's just so lovely, so handsome," she enthused in a breathless little voice and she teased him by fanning his cock's smooth-skinned crown with her warm breath.
It trembled, twitched and thrust lustily more outward, higher, straining toward her face. A little shiver went through the kneeling woman when she felt it swell even more in her loving grasp.
She sent her tongue squirming out. She pressed a long, sucking kiss on the very tip of his growing penis. He felt the wet, slithery tip of her wriggly tongue and shuddered as he thrilled to the feeling of it: a french kiss for his prick! Her tongue traced all over the head, then began running warmly down the whole staff and wetly, warmly back up to the head again.
She licked and lapped and kissed his cock until he thought he'd go up the wall. By that time the thrusting, reddened form of his sex-club curved up into a mighty arc above his groin, flaunting its thick semen-carrying tube at her. She tugged it down with one hand in order to lick and press warm wet kisses on the luridly pink knob. Delighting in its throbbing thickness and heaviness, the challenging girth of that hot meat, she slavered happily over it.
Her hand never left his balls while she licked and kissed his cock.
She lifted one arm to brush back her hair, deliberately showing him the lascivious way her moistly sparkling tongue slithered out, quivering, to tickle the knob and sensitive underside of his prick.
He shivered at the feel of the jolting lances of lust that jumped through him and was suddenly fearful of losing his load before he was ready. Impossible, he told himself; we've been here three days now and I've come eight times. No way I'm going to shoot early!
Nevertheless he guarded against it. Gritting his teeth, he lifted his head, refusing to look down at the inflaming sight. Tensing the lithe muscles of his thighs, he concentrated on feeling.
He could feel her serpentine tongue curling around, pressing his big hard rubbery bone at the same time as, kissing, she suddenly applied a heavy vacuuming suction. His cock head slurped into her mouth. He groaned aloud, twitched.
The kneeling girl's sweet soft mouth was like a thirsty cunt, wet and warm and snugly pressed around the crown of his hard meat.
With an obscenely loud sploop noise, she let his cock flip free of her mouth. Again he groaned-for a different reason, this time. But he was not to be abandoned. Now her tongue stabbed out to run up the undersurface of his proud pink prick. Quivery tongue tip traced out the pulsing veins and slurped over the bigger swelling of the sperm tube.
Her fingers slid through the hair of his inner thigh as she kissed and nuzzled and licked.
She ran her tongue up over the smooth mushroom head, sucked it briefly and slithered down the staff again. It wiggled wetly over the curling thicket of his groin and rose to tickle his lower belly. She let him feel a brief lingual pressure at his navel, while she pressed and rolled his nuts with both hands. He knew she liked to make them wobble and roll about in their pouch.
She returned her mouth to his genitals, sliding her lips down his belly with her tongue partway out.
The kneeling woman moved her kissing lips back over the pulsing great shaft until the teasing caress of her breath on the big bulb of its glans made him shudder. He felt her breasts quiver against his legs. He looked down while she, her head bent over his groin and her hands on his hips, let her eyes flutter open to peer up at him. She wasn't being coy, he saw; she was checking his reactions. How beautiful her eyes were, looking up into his face from his groin! How beautiful her jiggly tits, bracketing his thighs!
She showed him the slow parting of her lips. Her mouth open, she moved closer to the big plumlike head of his dilated cock. He held his breath, watching as if in a trance. At the last moment, she paused. When she spoke her voice was low and came straight up from the throat.
"I hope you don't get tired of standing, darling. I want to suck you off."
That brought a jolt of bliss-bringing lust whipping through him! He groaned, dizzied by her words, by the pounding of his heart, by the blood pounding wildly through his brain. She promised something new; he had never come in her mouth.
Sliding her lower lip under his cock's swollen glans, she flicked the sensitive tip with her tongue. Then, lowering her eyes, she sucked his cock into her mouth. She eased hard penis into her face slowly, vigorously rubbing the throbbing underside with her busy little tongue. She pulled it, sucking and licking all the while for all she was worth.
He shuddered as his distended meat vanished into that sexy cavern of warm saliva and warmly wiggling tongue.
It lay on her wet, ever-moving tongue while she sucked rhythmically and wetly at his deliciously entrenched penis. One hand began to knead his balls. She knelt before him and sucked cock. Her fingers circled his scrotum, closed around it and dared him to rob her mouth of the cock she sucked and licked.
Groaning, he felt himself topple into the scarlet abyss of lust.
His cock swiftly proved that it was not the bone they called it-her sweet oral loving made it throb and jump in her face.
Most of the length of the full, pounding, swollen organ was surrounded by warm, moist mouth-flesh like a wet humid glove. The exquisite sensation of it made him go light in the head, and he woke up to the fact that his heart was pounding so hard because he was unwittingly holding his breath. He let it out in a long sigh of rising sensuality.
She began bobbing her head. A woman of twenty-five who'd thought, assumed that she was lesbian until a few months ago. A woman who called herself a girl-a girl determined to suck him off, all the way, for the first time in her life.
Her dedicated head-bobbing drew his eyes to her bared, loosely lolling breasts.
They jostled, they swung, their skin rippled and shone, they wobbled and shivered. They were beautiful. He was crazy about the delicious curves that sprouted all tight-skinned and loose-moored from her chest, lushly rounded balls of pure beauty and sensuousness and ever-provocative voluptuousness. And in addition to that-they were damned good tits.
Her finger tips stroked his balls. Her sweet lips softly traced heated patterns of sensuous delight up and down his dick. It was a straining, pounding staff now, ramming out above the two plump spheres.
She nursed at the hard pink length of his cock, nibbling insatiably, bobbing her head to encompass him in the wet heat of her loving mouth. The thrilling treatment sent waves of scalding pleasure rushing deep into the dangling flesh of his nut-sack.
Crooning, she sucked and mouth-fucked his cock. Her mouth was a slavering, lustful and loving receptacle for the big tool.
Oh God-slobber over my cock, baby, he thought. Eat me up, you marvelous kneeling cocksucking jiggle-titted fantastic woman-I love it, love it-I love you!
Helplessly he surged his cock into her face. It began to ache with the need to blow. She was kneading his balls almost unbearably with gentle warm fingers.
She sucked sweetly and unselfishly and naturally as though she'd been practicing for years, giving his meat a sweet, generous oral massage.
The voracious darling licked and slurped and sucked, greedily and hungrily.
Her swollen tits quivered and hobbled before her, tickling his thighs with their pushy nipples. She crammed them deliberately against his legs, squashing her hot pillowy breast flesh on his body.
"Oh darling, oh baby-you've never pleased me more! It's wonderful!"
His words spurred her happily to greater efforts. She sucked.
She sucked harder. She would not stop until she had sucked every drop of sweet viscous fluid from the warm sanctuary of his balls.
He stared down to watch those precious pink cocksucking lips clutch and pout around his ripe, rosy tool, clinging, expanding, rounding out around the thickly swollen chunk of manly meat.
The hot wet haven formed by her straining jaws and ever-moving head aroused him, fired him until the sensual need to blow his balls was an agonizing torture. She sucked on, methodically, willing him to come, seeking to force his cock to spurt, to shoot its hot milk in torrential splashes down her throat.
Then she did.
The man who stood over her groaned aloud and unconsciously thrust his swollen and long-sucked organ deeply into her face. Like a fleshy cannon, it went off.
She felt the streaming fluid start coming, hard-spurting and she had no notion what one did with it. It gagged her; she swallowed automatically in defense; after that, a born natural, she drank it all down-and loved it.
Twitching and groaning with the violent popping of his rocks, he sent sticky sperm spewing up the length of her tongue and down her gullet. She gulped and gulped. She groaned, swallowed gulping, shuddered and took it with love-and then the shuddering man was excited even more-he saw the hot white liquid that oozed from the corner of her mouth, traced over her lip, run into the little depression and then out over her chin. A long glistening thread of semen stretched down from her quivering chin and he saw it fall onto her breast.
Staggering, loving her more than he ever had, he pulled his woman up and fell with her onto the bed. With his mouth on her breast and his fingers at her cunt, he soon had her crying out in an orgasm that rocked her body.
Then they lay side by side, touching, her hand on his soft penis. Idly she played with it while he told her again and again how good it had been.
"I loved it. I love doing it. I even loved the taste of it." She rubbed her Hat little belly, so soft and narrow. "I love thinking about your semen in my stomach." A shudder took her and she turned to kiss his shoulder while her hand squeezed his genitals. "I love you!"
And long after that, in the darkness, she asked quietly, "Darling? What-what did you think about? What did you want, think about, while I was sucking you?"
"You. And how good it was."
"What would have made it better?"
"I can't think of anything."
She came up on one elbow and her breast fell softly against his ribs as she bent her face over his. "Oh come on. What did you think about? What would you have loved to do?"
"I felt like a king. An emperor. A shiek in a one-woman harem. Me standing and you there on your knees, loving me with your mouth-it was glorious. I was king of the world. Better? I don't know... I had to hold back from moving, fast and hard. Fucking your face. I wanted my hands on your titties. But I'd have squeezed them hard and hurt you. Poor reward for all you were giving me!"
She trembled. "I love the thought of everything you've said! Let's do that-tomorrow. You're the shiek and I a new harem girl, or a slave, something. You do that-you hurt my titties and make me suck you. And you... fuck my face."
She felt him shiver and knew it was with pleasure and anticipation.
"You really think you'd like that?" he asked.
She kissed his chest, tongued and pretended to chew at his nipple. "I know I would," she said softly.
In the morning, after they'd awakened and were considering getting up but enjoying merely lying in bed, messing around, toying with each other, he asked her a guestion, very quietly.
"Rosalind?"
"Hmmm?" She was kissing his nipple. Her hand was on his cock.
"Did you... could you have... sort of enjoyed it, when Char tied you up that way?"
After a long silence, she murmured, "Not all of it."
He stroked her back. "I know. But that isn't what I asked."
"It was exciting. I felt... enslaved, totally giving and taken, used, all at once. Yes... yes, I sort of enjoyed it. Part of it. If it had been you... oh darling I'd have loved it!"