Chapter 6
It had been quite a fuck -a hard, hot, thrilling, throbbing ride with the finish a flood of lava-like spurts of semen which bathed her cunt from lips to uterus, the overflow running down and out of her happily pierced pussy, down on his balls and even reaching his anus. When his sated prick shrunk and slipped out of her cunny, Raul wondered that the chair hadn't shattered into bits.
Denise slid off his lap and rummaging in his trousers, pulled out his cigarettes and lit up for both of them. Then she sat down on his lap again as they relaxed and watched the glowing tips of their butts, as her own ass pressed, hot and soft on his thigh flesh.
The overhead light suddenly went on, freezing them as they were. Then, as they saw the yelling, outraged Edouard coming toward them, Raul sprang out of the chair. The naked and trembling Denise quickly ducked behind him for protection.
Raul would have sworn the little guy wouldn't have the guts to attack. So it was unexpected and he was caught completely off guard.
He took the full force of Edouard's headlong plunge in his midsection, and it knocked the breath from him. He was sent flying backward into Denise, taking her along, and the three of them landed on the floor in a tangle of limbs. Raul fought his way to his feet first.
Edouard looked up dazedly, shaking his head. Then he saw Raul standing over him. With a roar, he pushed Denise off, and scrambled clumsily to his feet.
Prepared this time, Raul laughed and stepped nimbly aside. When Edouard went hurtling past, bent far over, Raul turned just enough to plant a solid kick on the man's backside. The force of the kick sent Edouard slamming headlong into the wall. He grunted, bounced off and crumpled to a heap on the floor.
Edouard didn't move. He was out cold.
Raul turned to Denise, who was scrambling into her clothes. "Come on, Denise, let's get the hell out of here and out of this town. You can get a divorce in Paris."
He was astonished to hear the words spilling from his mouth. To his further amazement, he knew he meant every word. He was willing to drop everything, forget about the holdup and go away with her immediately.
Half dressed, she paused to stare at him. "I can't get a divorce, Raul. Not now. Not just yet."
"You must do something." He glared at her in disbelief. He had the eerie feeling he was reliving the past. "Denise, I'm asking you to go away with me. Right now."
" I can't leave without settling things first, Raul. Can't you see that?" she wailed. Besides, there's no reason for us to leave, and I have so many things-"
Not again. He'd heard these very words from her before.
"It's just like it was before, isn'titDenise?" he spat bitterly.
"No, it isn't. It's not the same at all."
"It is to me. I asked you to go with me then. You wouldn't. I'm asking you again. You refuse again."
He turned away abruptly and started out.
She called after him. "Raul, don't go like this. You don't understand."
He didn't wait. He strode out. Outside, he lit a cigar as he walked along the lake toward the village. In his rage, he almost was running.
Halfway to the village, he changed his mind and struck off in the direction of the cabin. There was a full moon, and its light drifted down through the trees to illuminate his path. He had no real excuse for going to the cabin, unless it was merely to sit and listen to Roger yarn about the old days and his career as a con man. Yet somehow Raul felt he owed the man an apology for even momentarily considering betraying him. And for what? For the hot-pussied broad who had made a fool out of him again.
Raul had met him in a small bistro in Marseilles. Roger Lesseps had exuded prosperity. He was in his early sixties, faultlessly groomed, each iron-gray lock in place, barbered to perfection, his linen spotless. He was short and stocky, with strong evidence of high living on his smooth features.
He had ordered the most expensive cognac in the bar, and when Raul served him, he said, "Have one yourself, lad."
Raul rarely drank with the patrons, but there was something about this one -a subtle charm, and an expensive amiability that intrigued him.
After that drink, Raul got to know a lot about the man. Roger was a man of varied talents. Early in life, he had discovered a flair for fleecing women of their money as a gigolo and a stud who was virile in his servicing of the fat cunts of big titted lovestarved matrons. And although he no longer confined his talents exclusively to that field, he did well enough at it to live high.
At the time, Raul had wondered why the con man revealed so much about himself on such short acquaintance. Later he realized there had been an instant rapport between them. And it was probably that Roger had sensed that Raul himself was ripe for a criminal caper.
Later that evening in Raul's hotel room over a bottle, Raul had learned Roger's real problem. His last three attempts at fleecing women had fallen flat. He could no longer get it up, and without a hard, potent prick, he could no longer satisfy the middleaged pussies of the women. Since he couldn't get his shaft stiff enough to enter the snatches all he could do was to substitute by sticking his tongue up the ample cuts, but even this could not go on forever.
Although never honest with a mark, Roger was always honest with himself. He told
Raul what he had diagnosed as his trouble. He was impotent. Screwing wasn't considered an important asset for a confidence man, but Roger thought differently. To him, sexual prowess was like a perfume. A woman could literally sniff it out. And any odor of potency Roger had once possessed was now gone.
As sometimes happens with men, an instant affection sprang up between them. Before the night was over -or the day, since they talked far into the next morning -Raul told Roger of his scheme to rob the village bank.
And Roger had seized on the plan eagerly. He saw it as a last big score, a final grandiloquent coup. Roger had never committed a crime of overt force, but he knew most of the pitfalls through talking with heist artists over the years. And Raul's plan had many things going for it. In the first place, Raul had a mind for organization, almost military in its precision and scope. With his years of employment in the bank, he was the next best thing to an inside man.
The pair spent months going over and over the plan. During that time Raul quit his job and the two moved to Paris, where Raul had met Gaby. There they polished the plan until it glittered in their minds like a fine diamond.
by the time Raul left, a strong bond of affection had developed between them, something in the nature of a father-son relationship. Roger had never sired a child, and Raul had certainly felt little affection for his true father. In fact, it had been Roger's suggestion that they leave the country together afterward. It was his intention to retire from crime; there would be enough money to last him the rest of his life. Raul had purchased three plane tickets, and as soon as it was safe to leave the village, the three of them would fly to South America.
The sharp crack of a gun jarred Raul from his reverie. He was a few yards from the cabin. He paused and listened. Another shot was fired, the-sound coming from the direction of the cabin. If it was that creep, Lamar...
He moved cautiously to the edge of the clearing before the cabin. There, in a bright pool of moonlight, Roger sat on the cabin's steps. In his hand he held a gun.
At the sound of his footsteps, Roger looked up. "Raul, mon ami, I'm glad to see you."
Raul sat down on the steps "What were those shots?"
Roger hefted the revolver. "I bought this. Just for show, of course. In my entire criminal career, I've never used a gun. I'd never even held one in my hand before. Now I'm fascinated. Perhaps I've had an undeveloped talent all these years and didn't know it. With a gun in my hand, I'm a different person, ten feet tall and virile a cock as Don Juan. What do you make of it?"
"I don't know, Roger. Just be damn careful with that gun. That's all we need, for you to be picked up for carrying a gun without a permit."
"Paul, is teaching me to use it," said Roger, continuing as though he hadn't heard. "Ittook me a while, and a lot of wasted ammunition, but I'm finally getting the hang. I killed three squirrels today."
Raul stiffened. "You what? That's against the law. Don't you know you're putting our whole plan in jeopardy with this damn fool kid stuff?"
Raul knew he couldn't take the gun away without risking a quarrel and a rift between them at this late stage was the last thing he wanted. He placed a hand on Roger's shoulder. "Just be careful, Roger," he said, getting to his feet. "I'm going back to town."
"Aren't you going in to see Gaby? She'll be disappointed-"
"Just don't mention my being here." Raul gazed down into the face and said firmly, "And keep that pop gun out of sight." "All right, lad." Roger also stood up, shoving the gun into his trouser pocket. "See you, Roger." Raul started back down the slope, to his hotel.
He was crossing the lobby, head down, deep in thought, when he bumped into somebody. Yvette Moreau. "Yvette. I'm sorry. I didn't see you."
She pouted under his gaze and cupped her right breast in both hands, projecting it toward him in erotic offering. Then she rubbed the palm of one hand gently over it in a circular motion. "You bumped me pretty good." She had her back to the desk, and except for the clerk there, they were alone in the lobby, so her gesture had not needed to be subtle.
"I'm sorry. Just getting off work?"
She nodded.
He remembered the boathouse and Denise, and her rejection of his plea to leave with him. And here was Yvette with her big, soft tits, the lush rounded ample belly and hips, the voluptuous behind. Yvette, with a snatch obviously eager to captivate his long cock. A real gift...
It would serve Denise right.
He said, "I have a bottle in my room. A couple of belts should ease the pain." He reached out and placed his forefinger on the large soft teat she said he had bumped. He felt the nipple stir under his finger.
Her eyes brightened, and she caught his hand, pressing it full against the heaving hot tit. "That's the best offer I've had all night.
She linked arms with him, and they went up the stairs. At nearly every step her breast brushed his arm. He led her down the hall to his room and flung the door wide. "Welcome to the LePlaise flop, doll, such as it is."
She strolled to the center of the room while he flipped on the lights. He went into the bathroom for the glasses and then took a bottle from the dresser drawer, and poured two generous drinks.
"Would you like some water?"
"That will be fine, Raul. And here, let me do it." She took the glasses and went into the bathroom. On the way back she kicked off the shoes she was wearing. "If you don't mind..."
"Make yourself comfortable." She handed him a glass and dropped onto the edge of the bed. When she crossed her slender legs, the nylon dress rode well above the knees. She didn't even make a token effort to pull it down.
She eyed him thoughtfully over the rim of the glass. "I never thought you'd take a second look at me, Raul. From what I hear, you've got a thing going with Denise Lefevre -or did once."
"Once is the word. Once but no more." He took a pull of his drink, set the glass down and took her by the shoulders, hauling her to her feet. She was small; the top of her head came just to his chin. Small and neat, a well-put-together piece of ass.
He lowered his mouth. A tasty hump.
She pulled away to set her glass beside his. Then she turned and seemed to leap into his arms. She lifted her piquant face and opened her lips, revealing small, even, white teeth.
Raul pulled her against him and brought his mouth down on hers again. She accepted the probing of his tongue. Her mouth was steamy. Her hands crawled up to the back of his head and she pressed his mouth down hard, until their teeth ground together.
He backed her up until the backs of her knees met the bed. He started to push her down.
"Wait. Wait a minute. I'll muss my uniform."
She slipped out of his arms and stood to one side while she worked on the line of buttons running the length of the uniform. She let the dress slide off her creamy shoulders, folded it neatly across a nearby chair. A half slip followed, leaving her in a half-cup bra, garter belt and hose. The bra held her full breasts like a pair of hands.
When he started for her again, she danced away to the other side of the bed, laughing.
"What 's the hurry, lover?"
He stopped short, a growl coming from his throat. "What are you, a damned cockteaser?"
Her eyes widened and she laughed again. Then she became serious. "No, I may be many things, but that I'm not. You'll learn that before the night's over. But..." She wrinkled her nose... "I'm all sweaty and smelly from hustling trays for eight hours. I need a shower." She smiled, head tilted to one side. "Don't you want me clean and smelling sweet all over ?"
She wheeled toward the bathroom without waiting for his reply. At the door she faced around, whipping off the bra. The coral nipples seemed to Raul like beckoning fingers.
Grinning, Raul crossed to the bed and picked up his drink, drained it, then poured another.
His glance shuttled to the bed, where only last night he had so ardently fucked the deliciously bodied Denise. And here he was, about to stick his hot cock in the even hotter snatch of another piece on that very same bed.
All at once he knew he couldn't do it.
Despite his anger at Denise, despite what he considered her betrayal, he still cared for her. He always had during the years away, and although he knew now that nothing could ever come of it, he would always love her.
So where did that leave him, with Yvette anticipating the thought that he was going to fuck her?
And idea struck him as he heard the roar of the shower. He downed the second drink and quickly removed all of his clothes. Then he strode to the bathroom door.
The bathroom was tiny, and already fogged with steam. There was a bathtub with a shower. Raul stepped to the tub and raised the curtain enough to peak in.
Yvette stood under the hot needle-spray with her feet planted wide apart, head back to keep her uncovered hair clear of the water, her eyes tightly shut. She had one arm crossed over her big breasts. In the other hand was a soapy washcloth she was moving over her flat belly in widening circles going lower with each sweep. There was a dreamy expression on her face as she began to lave her soaked cunt. She parted the lips and the washcloth slid up her box.
In one smooth motion, Raul glided in and pulled the curtain closed. At the same time he caught her hand and took the cloth from her.
Her eyes flew open and she cowered against the wall. "Raul. What are you...?"
"I was thinking," he said with a grin, "that there's no use one of us being sweet and clean if the other isn't."
He made a small circle with the washcloth, Her face went soft, her eyes going out of focus as she sagged against him.
He dropped the washcloth, putting a hand on each quivering haunch and backed her against the wall. Then he lifted her just far enough, surging his huge, steaming, water-dripping prick into her excited cunt with urgent force.
"Oooh. Ahhh." She writhed at the feel of his huge organ plunging into her wet passage.
She stiffened , then came alive. She laced her legs around his, locking her arms about his dripping neck and buried her face there, a fold of skin caught between her teeth. Her hips began to move with his, to work his surging, hard burning shaft in deeper, all the way into her vaginal tunnel. The hot spray pelted down on them. The stall became steamy as a tropical rainforest as they worked frantically toward culmination.
Release struck them at the same time. Raul groaned aloud and pinned Yvette to the wall almost brutally with his pusalting spear as he came. The head of his cock spurted. Her cunny couldn't hold all the load he was spewing in her passage, and the overflow ran out of the bottom of her cunt.
When Yvette had caught her breath, she looked up at him roguishly and said, "I didn't get to finish my shower somehow do you mind if I take a bath? I don't dare turn on the shower again with you around."
"Yeah, brings out the beast in me," he said sarcastically.
YVette slid her lithe young fuck-sated body into the bathtub as it filled with warm water. As she lathered her neck and shoulders, the bubbly whiteness of the soap and her abundant breasts floating delectably in the water was too exciting for him.
He stepped into the tub and sat himself down facing her. She grinned and began to soap his chest and shoulders. Looking down at his cock, she noticed a renewed pulsing lust. Raul heard her gleeful laugh and then he realized that her lips and mouth were a lot warmer than the bath water. He leaned back helplessly in the grip of her redheaded rhythm.
Then he suddenly contorted, and floundering with a great splashing like a beached whale, groaned happily as her mouth moistly sucked upon his huge, up-arching prick head bringing his hot sperm jetting down her throat.