Chapter 8

When Raul opened the door to his hotel room he wasn't too surprised to find Yvette calmly sitting stark naked, except for his bathrobe loosely open, in the one easy chair in the room. Her big tits spilled out of the robe and her red haired snatch winked at him from between her out-spread legs.

"I just had to see you again, Raul. Last night was really so wonderful for me. A girl like me doesn't really get too much of a chance to know the real good cock of a wonderful guy -mostly creepy tourists or fat salesmen with half-dead peters who grunt and fart as they fuck...Well, I just need an encore before you leave town for another five years."

The robe had fallen from Yvette's milkywhite nakedness, dotted with jutting crimson nipples and framed with those long red tresses.

"It's all right by me, Yvette," Raul said. "But this time the bed -I haven't got my skin-diving suit tonight."

He awoke slightly before noon and went down for breakfast. He left Yvette sleeping as she was working a later shift and the lack of her face among the many strange ones made him feel at a loss.

Finally -of all things -he went fishing. He had never cared much for fishing, but it was something to do. He put on old clothes, rented the equipment and a small boat with an outboard and spent the rest of the afternoon on the lake.

To his surprise, he caught some fish. He tossed them all back. What the hell could he do with fish? At dusk he returned to his room and cleaned up, then he went to dinner. Yvette was on duty, but the place was so crowded that there was no opportunity to talk.

Raul returned to his room feeling depressed. He poured a drink he didn't want, and crossed to the winow to look down on the busy street. He stood there a long time.

The whole caper seemed sour.

If he could only be sure of DENISE. If she would shack up with him, he'd dump the whole deal and run with her to the ends of the earth, scratching out a living for them however he could.

A new thought struck him forcibly, bringing a flicker of a grin to his face. It wouldn't be necessary for him to run, or worry about a living. If she could annul the marriage due to Edouard's impotency, Denise would have considerable money left, enough to set him up in a business. And with her as his wife, he would finally be accepted by the villagers as one of their own.

It was what he wanted, wasn't it?

Wasn't it?

With an angry gesture, he tossed off the drink. He had to talk to Roger. But it was too early. He could not risk a trip to the cabin.

He prowled the small room restlessly, smoking all the cigarettes and cigars he had. The liquor only made him more depressed. He decided to go to the store.

Raul put on a pair of jeans, a leather jacket and field boots. He left the hotel and walked along the quiet streets. He soon found himself angling away from town and up the slope toward the cabin.

There was a cool freshness in the night air as he paused on the edge of the clearing. In the shadows of the last trees, Roger sat on a stump a few yards from the cabin. There was only one light inside -in Gaby's bedroom.

Raul caught the glint of steel in the moonlight as he approached the man on the stump. Roger had the gun in his lap. He was gazing down at it, turning it over and over in his hands.

Raul moved silently up behind him. "Hello Roger."

The stocky man jumped up and whirled around. "Sacre, you sacred the hell out of me." He motioned as if to conceal the gun then gave it up with a sheepish grin.

Raul made no comment about it. Instead he said, ."If you're going to be the great outdoorsman, Roger, you're going to have to learn a few things. All the birds took flight when I came through the woods."

Raul sat down beside his friend. Roger peered at him closely, a look of concern on his face.

"What is, Raul? Anything gone wrong?"

"No. no. Everything's smooth as silk. I set up the last pieces of action just today." He told Roger about Charles, and his plan to be drinking with the policeman during the holdup.

Roger was jubilant. "Fine, fine. That just about ties it up in a neat package. Or does it? Something is wrong. Out with it, Raul."

Stumblingly, Raul told him of Denise, of their love, and how her husband Lefevre stood in their way.

"This Lefevre...He's president of the bank?"

Raul nodded.

Roger seemed deep in thought. He said slowly, "I'm sorry about your trouble, son. I'm a romantic, I guess, and I like to see the course of true love run smooth." His voice sharpened. "This Denise...Does she know about the caper?"

"Oh, no. Of course not."

"Then your problem's personal, nothing to do with the job?"

Raul nodded. "Yes, except that the kick's gone out of it for me, Roger."

"I can see how that would be, but you'll feel much better once the money's in your hand."

Roger leaned, elbows on his knees, and in a dreamy voice he began to talk of the life he'd lead in Brazil with his cut of the money. Raul had heard it all before, but listening again now, he knew he had to go through with the holdup. It was the last chance for this man he was so fond of. If it fell through, Roger's heart would break.

Roger broke from his daydreaming to look around. "Denise...Is she going with you., with us?"

"I don't know."

"I like Gaby, of course. You know that. But this Denise strikes me as a woman I'd like too." His voice dropped. "Of course, you may want to be alone, without an old man tagging along. I understand."

At the mention of Gaby, Raul glanced toward the cabin. He got to his feet. "I guess I'll go in and say hello to Gaby. She's probably thinking I've-"

Roger stood up quickly. "Lad, why don't we talk for a while more first?" He put a hand on Raul's arm.

Raul shook the hand off, anger spurting through him. "What the hell are you trying to shield me from?"

"They're both drunk. Take my advice. Don't go busting in there."

"I think I will. I think I'll do just that."

Raul strode toward the door, opening it quietly and entered the darkened room. A rancid odor of stale liquor and cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air. The door to Gaby's bedroom stood open, a dim light spilling out. Raul picked his way toward it.

As he reached the doorway, Gaby groaned twice in fuck ecstasy.

"Suck me good. Shove your tongue up my twat."

Stark naked, Gaby lay slant-wise across the tumbled bed, her feet planted solidly and well apart on the floor. Her eyes were clenched shut and the big teats throbbed like a giant heartbeat, rising to a rigid arch, then collapsing, to rise again. Her arms were flung wide, each hand clutching at the bed.

Paul Lamar, also naked, was kneeling between her widely spread knees at the corner of the bed, his mouth glued to and partly inside Gaby's parted cunt. The moist juices of her pussy drenched Paul's cheeks as he was busy lapping her. His skinny body, fishbelly-white, was ludicrous in its total lack of hair. He resembled a skinned alley cat, narrow back arched, face out of sight, his naked ass-hole gleaming, a large, hairy set of balls hung down below with a long prick swaying like a pump handle.

In one bound Raul was at the bed. He got his fingers in Paul's stringy hair and yanked. He slammed his fist in the the lust-slackened face, sending the man reeling backward toward the door.

Raul turned to look down at Gaby, and she returned his gaze defiantly.

"Well, what did you expect? I haven't seen you for days." Then she turned away, her shoulders shaking with sobs.

Paul was just getting to his feet, his back to the wall, his hands working crabwise up it. Raul stepped in close and drove a fist into his midsection, and when Lamar doubled over, Raul straightened him up with a left to the face. Paul staggered to one side and stumbled through the bedroom door.

Raul stalked him, giving him no chance to recover. Driving his victim before him with short, stiff-arm blows to the head, he sent him reeling out the dront door.

Roger ran up. "Raul, you'll kill him." He tried to get between them, but Raul, blind with rage brushed him aside and drove the naked, helpless Paul ahead of him and then pummelled the reeling form to the ground.

"That's enough." Roger caught Raul by the shoulders and pulled him back. "We need him."

Raul allowed himself to be held back. He stood panting, staring down at Paul, who had curled into a tight ball. Dressed, with a gun hidden on him somewhere, Lamar was a menacing figure. But now he looked utterly pathetic.

Raul let Roger lead him to the cabin steps. He muttered, "I should kill him."

"No. He's not worth it." Roger sat down beside him. "Once the job is over, you'll never see him again."

"For two centimes I'd call the caper off right now," Raul said. "We can't trust that weedhead."

Roger put an arm across his shoulders. "Don't worry, son. Things are going to work out better than you think. I'll take care of Paul. I'll keep him in line, I promise."

He went into the cabin. In a few minutes he came back with Lamar's clothes and tossed them to the still-cowering thug.

Without a word, Paul began to scramble into his clothes, his cock now limp and shrunken.

Roger turned to Raul. He said gently. "You go on back to Gaby. Don't blame her too much; you know how she is. I'll take Paul for a walk."

Raul thought. Maybe I shouldn't blame her too much. He had neglected her. And he had been shoving his own busy prick into more than one cunt.

He got up and re-entered the cabin. There was a bottle of cognac on the table before the cold fireplace. He picked it up and took two long swallows.

She still lay on the big bed, curled up with her back to him. She rolled onto her back at the sound of his footsteps. Her tears had dried, and there was now no sign of remorse on her face.

"See what happens, mon cheri, when you leave me too long."

Raul stepped close to the bed.

Gaby rolled onto her belly and lay with her face turned toward him. She followed his undressing with avid eyes, and when he stepped out of his shorts, she sighed gustily at the sight of his lust-swollen prick jutting hugely from his bush.

"Oh. You're really ready, aren't you?" Raul said, staring down at her.

So Gaby wanted to play games, did she? Well, he could give her all the fun she wanted.

Raul got on the bed on his knees, his rigid prick aimed straight at her ass-hole. Gaby drew her plump rump up slightly so that her weight rested on her knees and elbows. Her breasts swung free, the nipples like arrowheads aimed at the bed.

She was panting as though she had been running, her buttocks opening and closing in avid anticipation. He put a hand on each cheek and they felt feverish. She tensed, waiting.

He moved his burning pole toward her, waited just a moment, then thrust the hard cock right up her ass-hole with a lunge.

Gaby grunted, her breath whistling. "Oh, yes, cheri. Oh, that's good."

She clamped her ass-hole against his surging cock to capture it.

Her breasts were swinging wildly. He reached around and caught one in each hand. He trapped each nipple between two fingers and worked on them, the fingers like dull scissors sawing away at tough fiber. He watched the spasmodic motion of her supple back as they bucked and ground together.

Gradually Gaby grew wilder and wilder, until it was all he could do to hold her to him. She took all the cock Raul could give her and begged for more.

And still more.

It was something like clinging to a carnival ride that seemed to go in several directions at once, up -down -sideways and in spine-cracking circles.

Then his eyes closed, as his pleasure intensified, the first warning ripple of ecstasy coursing through his about-to-come cock.

"Not yet, damn you." Gaby cried in a muffled voice. "Wait one..more..second."

He slowed his rhythm and let her work frantically. Then she dived on to her face, and her hands reached back to clutch at his back and pull him harder against her.

Then Gaby screamed, "Now, damn you. Now."

She went rigid. Now she spasmed again and again, sinking lower each time until she was but an elongated mound of quivering flesh, so soft and limp as to seem almost shapeless.

Raul rolled away and sprawled on his back. His chest heaved as he fought for breath. Vaguely he wanted a cigar, but it didn't seem worth the effort required to find and light one.

"Oh, that was good, cheri." Gaby crooned in his ear.

A grunt was his only comment. He was tired and growing drowsy.

"I'm sorry about Paul, but you know how it is with me. He means nothing to me; he was just here. We got a little drunk, and he was a man and willing to do what I wanted. He was here and you weren't. You know?"

"Ummm-hmmm," he muttered and drifted into sleep.