DADDY`s PLAYTHING PART 3

Sherry Trent and her father, Victor Redgrave, lay in the lounge chairs beside the immense swimming pool behind the Lucky Nuggett Hotel. They lay face up, eyes closed, facing the Nevada sun. It was hot, even for July, but a slight breeze made the beat bearable. Sherry liked to sport a tan. For one thing a suntan made it unnecessary to apply so much stage makeup at night under the heat of the stage lights performers perspired and their makeup appeared streaked and ran onto costumes, staining them. Also, a tan contributed to her whole some image.
The breeze diminished and Sherry sat up shielding her eyes from the bright sun with her hand and surveyed the deck. Two young men, both in their twenties she guessed, were staring directly at her. Mouths agape, they made no pretense of not staring directly at her breasts and the indentation of her vagina in the skimpy crotch of her bikini. Sherry loved Daddy, true, but she was a born performer. She spread her legs just a little farther apart, tugged at her halter, and smiled at them. It was just a friendly smile, not seductive, but the taller lad — the one with the erection nearly fell backwards in to the pool. Only a grab by his friend — whose crotch was somewhat swollen too — saved him from plunging into the blue water.
Sherry lay back again, feeling their hungry eyes fastened to her, and enjoyed her sunbath.
“How many times have I told you that a performer, especially one who hopes to be a star, is supposed to remain aloof? That was cheap, Sherry,” her father said. “Being friendly is one thing. Tantalizing is quite another.”
“Sorry, Daddy,” she said, closing her parted legs. “It’s just that I felt sorry for them. They looked so — pitiful there.”
“Well, let them find some cheap tramp to sink their meat in,” he said. “You’re Sherry Trent and don’t forget it!”
“Yes, Daddy.” Her father’s awareness regarding the presence of other males often amazed Sherry. When it came to other males he seemed to have eyes in the back of his head, an eerie intuition.
Connie, a cocktail girl from the lounge, came over in a few minutes and said, “Hi.” Sherry had chatted with her briefly a few times during intermissions and they had struck up something of a friendship. Victor didn’t object to her being friendly with females. In fact, he often encouraged her being nice to the “little people” wherever she worked, particularly if they were female or married men who didn’t seem to pose any threat to her relationship with Daddy. It was good for her image, he said. Good public relations. In fact, she often caught her father feasting his eyes on the more sexy girls.
With long, straight black hair, large breasts, and enormous blue eyes, Connie was very sexy. Without invitation, she spread her towel on the sundeck next to Sherry and began chatting in her smooth, purring voice. She struck Sherry as something of a social-climber — the kind of girl who liked to hob-nob with celebrities and semi-celebrities and might be on the look-out for an affluent husband. She certainly had the manner and looks for it.
The three of them sat there baking lathe sun for perhaps twenty minutes when Gil Turner came over wearing a very flowery pair of swimming trunks. “Hi, gang,” his deep voice boomed. “Mind if I join the sweat brigade?” he asked.
“Not at all,” Sherry said.
“Hello, Gil,” Victor said, squinting at him. Gil held a tall drink in his hand, his inevitable prop. Ice tinkled in the glass as he sat down cross-legged on his towel next to Connie.
“Gil, this is Connie,” Sherry said, introducing them. “She works here in the lounge. She serves cocktails. With your consumption, you two should get along famously. Gil is my agent,” Sherry added.
Gil grinned, taking in Connie’s full, ripe body. “Very nice to know you,” he said seductively.
The word “agent” seemed to perk Connie up considerably and Sherry guessed that her appraisal of Connie as an “important people seeker” was correct. She gave Gil a fetching smile, revealing perfectly capped teeth and said, “It must be wonderful and exciting representing real talent,” she said. “Traveling all over and seeing interesting and exciting places.” Her voice raised a full octave in pitch.
Gil took a long sip from his drink, then contemplated Connie’s remark as he chewed ice. “Yes,” he agreed, nodding, “and then sometimes it’s a lot of shit. Pure, unadulterated bullshit.”
Gil had had quite a bit to drink, Sherry could tell, and Connie didn’t know just how to react. There was a nervous trembling about the edges of her fixed smile. Gil liked to shock people with language when he’d been drinking. It was one of his favorite games. But of course Connie didn’t know that. Victor propped himself up on one elbow grimacing. “Please forgive Gil,” he said. “When he’s hitting the sauce he has a tendency to try to startle people. You don’t find dealings related to our act distasteful do you, Gil?” Victor asked.
“Of course not,” he said somewhat apologetically. “I’m talking about entertainment directors and all the crap you have to put up with in dealing with the no-talents. It’s the mediocre ones who demand the moon. Sherry here is just ripe.”
“I’d hoped so,” Victor said, relaxing on the chair again.
“Language like that doesn’t bother me,” Connie insisted condescendingly, sensing tension. “I’m a cocktail waitress, remember? I hear all kinds of language every night, believe me. Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m a big girl.”
“Yes, I can see that,” Gil said. He ran his eyes over her crotch and breasts lecherously. “You’re a big girl all right. Are you twenty-one?”
“Yes,” Connie answered blinking in surprise. “Why?”
“Never mind,” Gil said, taking her by the hand. “That means you’re old enough to have a drink and — and everything. Come on, I want to talk to you, honey. Come with me.”
Connie looked a little helplessly at Victor and Sherry but nevertheless permitted Gil to lift her to her feet. “Where-where are we going?” she asked, glancing at Sherry for approval. Sherry could see through Connie’s false reluctance to depart with the agent of Sherry Trent. She would probably go anywhere with anybody she thought was important.
“Go ahead,” Sherry coaxed. “Gil just wants to show you around, convince everybody that he’s not in his forties.” She winked.
“Well, if you think it’s all right,” Connie said. “Okay then. We’ll talk later, okay?”
“Sure,” Sherry said. “Have fun, dear. Gil’s really quite harmless.” She remembered the night she had made love with Gil and her comment was directed somewhat cruelly at Gil who had not been able to make her reach an orgasm.
“Bye-bye,” she said, as Gil tugged her by the hand toward the hotel.
“Catch the act tonight,” Gil called as they walked away.
Victor stared after Connie who was literally tripping as Gil whisked her away rapidly. “God, I hate Las Vegas,” he said.
“Gil’s just lonely,” Sherry explained.
“You mean horny,” her father said.
“Well, I guess they’re the same thing,” Sherry said. “Speaking of horny, what time do you feel like taking our nap?” An afternoon nap prior to the first show had become a ritual with them, as it was with many performers. Sometimes a nap was just that, but sometimes it meant fucking too. If they planned on fucking they began the nap earlier. Sherry wanted to get the schedule set in her mind.
“Let’s nap early,” he said, which meant he wanted to fuck. He glanced at his wrist watch in the cement beside him. “By now Gil’s probably screwing that tramp Connie’s ass off,” he said, grinning.
“Does the idea excite you?” Sherry asked. “Does picturing them doing it together make you anxious to fuck me? I bet you wouldn’t mind sticking your wanger in her yourself — for variety’s sake, would you? Why don’t you go up to Gil’s room and watch them fucking and sucking?” She was baiting him in a very hushed voice so that no one could possibly tell the subject of their conversation. Often she did that just to read his reaction. “Fuckee, fuckee, fuckee,” she sing-songed.
“You know that’s ridiculous,” Victor said. “Nobody does the things we do together and we both know it, dear. After you, making love to Connie would be like…” — he groped for words — “… like…”
“Jacking off?” she said.
“Precisely,” he said. “I couldn’t have said it better.”
“Good,” she said, not daring to touch him in public. “That’s what I wanted to hear. Yes, they’re probably just bungling away, like a couple of dogs or horses. No finesse.”
Victor nodded. Their conversation sometimes took an entirely different tone when they were in public. Sherry abandoned her little girl role and became the precocious girl she actually was and he spoke frankly just as he would to any other adult. “Yes,” he said. “Mere copulation. Sheer getting one’s rocks off. Grunt, grunt and it’s all over.”
“Do you really think they’re already doing it?” Sherry asked.
“Who knows?” her father said. “With Gil anything’s possible.”
Upstairs, in Gil Turner’s room, they were not doing it — at least not yet. Gil had just mixed a pitcher of martinis and Connie sat primly across the room sipping her drink. Her legs were crossed and she jiggled the top leg slightly.
It was a nice leg — long and smooth. Gil lay on the bed staring at her.
“You operate sort of fast, don’t you, Mr. Turner?” she said.
“Always,” he affirmed. “Whether in business or in pleasure I don’t believe in fooling around. If an act has promise I sign ‘em and work my ass off so everybody makes money. If I see a girl I like I tell her so. Why not?” Connie was wearing casual shoes but they had heels. “Stand up and walk across the room,” Gil said. She stared at him briefly, surprised, then tilted her head to the side and set her martini down on the table beside her. “Why not?” she said, rising and strutting slowly about the room.
“Do you like me?”
“You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” he said. “Got any boyfriends?”
“Casual dates — you know.”
“Do you swing for money or what?” Lots of the cocktail girls in Vegas, Tahoe, anyplace where there’s gambling are part-time hookers. Connie certainly had the looks for it and Gil wondered if she supplemented her income with extre-curricular fucking.
“No, Mr. Turner. Some of the girls do, but I do not.” Her voice was a bit icy. “It isn’t my scene.”
“What is your scene?”
“Right now I really don’t know. I suppose someday I’ll meet someone I dig, preferably with money, and get married.”
“Naturally,” Gil said. “The reason I ask is, I travel a lot and I get lonely. There’s a lot of paper work that has to go back and forth from me to my office in New York. I could use someone like you to travel with me for a while. It would pay good, even when you wouldn’t be working and I’m in New York. I’m not talking about getting married, I’m talking about getting laid. Regularly.”
“Naturally,” Connie said. “And you’re married?”
“Naturally,” Gil said. “Do you type?”
“Of course not,” she said.
“I figured,” he said. “Take your top off,” he said.
“About how long would the job last?” she asked.
“Hard to tell. We’ll say a six-month guarantee. But that will depend on what happens in the next half-hour or so, right?”
“Are you going to inspect my teeth and vaccinations to see if I’m a sound animal? Check for blemishes, scars?”
“I’m no veterinarian,” Gil said. “I’m going to inspect your cunt. Think of me as a gynecologist,” he laughed.
She wasn’t laughing. “How much would the job pay?”
Gil pursed his lips. “Say, two hundred a week — plus fringe benefits.”
“I make that already,” Connie said. “In Vegas, cocktail girls make good tips.”
“Okay, make it two-fifty,” he said.
Connie gulped her drink down, set it on the table and stood up. Her ass swinging, she went to the door, put her hand on the doorknob and faced Gil Turner. “You’re really funny, Gil,” she said. “No hard feelings, but an offer like that is insulting. When a man earns ten percent of all the big acts you handle an offer like that is truly degrading. If you’d just wanted to make love now this afternoon you should have said so. I’m normal, I assure you. I dig sex and lots of it. But now, somehow the whole thing has turned me of. So long,” she said, turning the knob.
Instantly, Gil sprang from the bed and raced across the room. He held her firmly about her bare waist. “Look, I am lonely and I do want you. Please. I’m not as tough as I seem. When I mentioned fringe benefits I meant the whole shot — nice times together, a car to drive, clothes. Stay with me for three-hundred a week for six months. Please?”
Connie’s face softened. She draped her arms about his slightly sunburned shoulders, pushed her pelvis hard at his and pressed her open mouth to his. Finally, she smiled coquettishly at him and said, “Let’s fuck first and see. You don’t want to regret making a sexual contract with someone who isn’t satisfactory, right? It’s all in the fucking. I think you should try me out and then see how you feel. Think of it as a free trial. Absolutely no obligation, all right?”
Gil’s cock stood ready and waiting. “Good idea, yes — I-I think that’s best,” he stammered.
“Besides,” she said, “what if I don’t like you? If it were just money I wanted I’d be a whore. You have to please me in bed too.” She reached down and rubbed his bulging hard-on. “I think you’re going to be fine though — just fine. Come on and let’s take our bathing suits off and lie down.”
“Whatever you say, Connie,” Gil said. “Sure.” Trembling, he unfastened her halter and then slowly pulled her suit bottoms down to her ankles. She stepped out of them and went and lay on the bed with her arms up behind her head. Gil leaped out of his trunks and lay down beside her. He pulled her to him and then began stroking her smooth, tanned flesh from her shoulder to her hip.
“I like you much better this way than you were before,” Connie breathed, kissing his eyes, nibbling at his ears. Then her hand found his stiff prong and her soft fingers began playing delightful games with it. “Before you were like some kind of auctioneer — buying cattle or something. Me — are you always that way with girls?”
Gil palmed Connie’s delectable breasts, whiter than the rest of her except for a thin band about her hips and crotch because of her bathing suit. He coaxed her nipples erect and pleaded with her to accept his proposal. “No,” he finally answered her question about his way with girls. “I’m not that kind of man at all. I’m-I’m sort of shy actually. It’s all a front. I’m sorry if I offended you. I just don’t know how to behave normally I guess.”
“I’d say you’re perfectly normal in some ways,” she said, laughing lowly from deep in her throat as she stroked and toyed with his genitals. “Let’s just take our time and do everything we want.”
Her words were barely out when Gil pressed his mouth hard to her breast and began sucking hard on her coral nipple. His hand plopped directly on her cunt too and he began immediately trying to stick his middle finger into her somewhat dry vagina. She caught his wrist and gently kissed his cheek. “Yes, you are a man who believes in getting directly to the point,” she said softly. “You’re older than I but there’s much you have to learn. Go easy, baby. It isn’t a contest. Wait until I’m ready, hon. This is going to be fun. I’m going to make the best fuck west of the Rockies — and at bargain prices. When you’re ready to discard me you’ll have oodles of females begging to jump in the sack with you.”
“Really?” he said, and she couldn’t resist laughing at the boyish tone of his voice.
“Yes, really,” she assured him. “Now, first of all just rub my body all over very gently. Talk to me and kiss me till my pussy gets nice and juicy. Then we’ll go from there. Just kiss my titties at first. Then gradually lick them lightly. Finally suck them and squeeze them the way you’d squeeze a sponge. You can use your teeth a little if you want later, too. Ummm, that’s it. That’s my lover man. Then I’ll do some nice things to you. I’ll kiss your prick and suck on it, play with your nipples, too.”
“My nipples?” Gil asked incredulously. “Girls, play with men’s nipples?”
“Of course, silly. Hasn’t a girl ever played with your chest that way before?”
“No,” he said. “I thought that was just for females…”
“And cows and goats probably,” Connie said, laughing. “Oh, my! Here you are a married man and you don’t even know the fundamentals. You’ve got a lot to learn, sweetheart, and I’m not sure six months is enough time!” He raised his head, looking hurt, and she pushed his tongue back on her nipple. “I’m just kidding, of course. In fact, I’ll take your first offer. Two-fifty a week it is.”
She watched him lapping at her nipples and felt her vagina contracting. He didn’t know it, but she hadn’t been fucked in a month. If she could just keep him under control and not overly anxious to just stick it in, she would get the blessed fucking and sucking she craved. “Nice, darling, lap on mama’s titties while she plays with your cock and balls. Oh, Gil, you suck so nice!”
And then, to her surprise, he dove at her cunt parted her legs and began lapping at her pussy. Although he lacked subtlety and finesse, the fact that he was even aware of such a thing as oral love amazed her! He licked frenziedly, like a male animal, and she had to caution him against hurting her. He had apparently forgotten to shave that morning and his rough beard scratched slightly.
“Easy, baby,” she coaxed. “Mama likes you to suck her pussy but you have to lick it gently. That’s better, like slow and nice, and be sure and lick at the bump on the top. That’s better,” she said. “That’s mama’s big love tiger!”
Nevertheless, Gil still munched on her box like a ravenous animal. In a way, his lack of artistry excited her. She had grown accustomed to men who considered themselves experts in the cunt-eating category and performed with such restraint and skill they had become old hat. It was odd that some men considered themselves unique when it came to delivering pleasure in cunt-sucking. Did the fools really think they were the only ones who ate pussy or, at least, knew how to eat pussy well?
At any rate, Gil would certainly win no prizes in a snatch gobbling contest, but his crude attack and uninhibited gulping between her legs was refreshing. As he gorged himself on her crotch, the vacuum-cleaner-like technique he employed filled her ears with the slurping sounds of saliva and grunts and groans that reminded her of feeding time at the zoo. His beard was beginning to smart just a little and, before he devoured her cunt whole she decided to take a breather.
“Honey,” she coaxed, raising his dripping-wet face from her parted legs. “That’s scrumptious, but let mama suck you for a while now before we fuck, okay? It’s unfair to let me have all the fun. I want to suck on your luscious prick for a little while and show you how good I am. Just lie back and let mama suck your rod.”
Still guzzling, Gil agreed and lay back on the bed dripping prick standing straight up. She scooted down on the bed beside him and stared admiringly at his hard-on. “I’m going to give you a sucking like you’ve never had before, honey,” she said, twanging his member so that it vibrated like a diving board. Connie first kissed his testicles long and lovingly and she could tell by his reaction that no woman had ever sucked his scrotum before. His eyes bulged out of their sockets in amazement as she took each almond-shaped ball deep into her mouth and tongued it softly, delicately. She jacked his prick and tickled the head of his rod as she did so.
“Nobody ever sucked my balls before,” he groaned, affirming her suspicion. “Nobody ever did that. Ohhhhhhh…”
She went on licking his nuts for a long time before she let her tongue go to work expertly on his cock. She began at its base, not the tip, and let her tongue entwine like a serpent up from his balls so gradually, that the transition from testicle-lapping to cocksucking was almost unnoticeable.
“Oh, Connnnie!” be groaned again as her darting tongue worked its way toward his waiting, sensitive, bulbous head. “Oh, baby, baby. Yeah, lap my cock. Lap it all!”
When she was certain that he could endure her teasing not one second longer, she lightly took the purplish-brown head of the jerking member into her mouth and exerted slight pressure. She twirled her tongue, then began moving lower and lower over his foreskin and down as far as her mouth would go. When his prick touched the back of her throat she exerted still more pressure, rising in short jerking motions as though to milk his throbbing meat. It was a sure-fire technique she had learned a long time ago from a man who had been able to achieve an orgasm only from oral stimulation. Unable to achieve an erection by fucking in the conventional way, the man (Rex) had carefully tutored her in all the subtleties of oral copulation. She had never forgotten his instructions, even though after a short time she had tired of having sex in that way only, and now she employed her knowledge on the naive Gil to drive him out of his mind.
She continued that way, moving upward slowly in the slow, jerking movements, increasing the pressure a little each time, and then moving down quickly again when she reached the top of his organ like an eager trout going for an insect. The technique accomplished two purposes. First, it minimized the amount of time Gil’s organ was actually exposed to room temperature (the air-conditioning was on) and secondly it was psychological, too, since it gave the impression of a female hungry — desperately hungry — to take the member each time deep into her mouth. At least that’s what Rex (the oral connoisseur) had explained to her.
She continued feasting on his cock for a long while to the agonizingly enraptured groans of her patient. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she sighted a row of bottles on the dresser. As a heavy drinker, Gil naturally had practically every kind of liquor imaginable. Along with the usual scotch, bourbon, gin, there were liqueurs thick ones like creme de menthe and creme de cocoa. She ceased her laying labors and crossed the room. Creme de menthe was her favorite. Not only did she like the flavor of it, but it had the effect of prolonging a man’s orgasm. The mint had a somewhat cooling affect which often kept a man from reaching an orgasm for hours. She remembered a man who had once spread a mint-flavored tooth paste over the head of his penis and explained that he could fuck for hours after each application because of its numbing effect. She took the bottle of creme de menthe from the row of bottles and returned.
“What are you going to do?” Gil asked. “I thought you’d never return.”
“Sorry, love,” she apologized, “but I jest saw something that might increase your pleasure.”
Gil stared at the bottle. “Christ, I don’t want a drink now!” he said. “You-you left me here dying and now you want to pour a drink!”
“Yes, I want to pour a drink,” Connie said, “but not where you think. I’m going to pour some of this creme de menthe over your hard-on. It makes your love muscle taste even yummier. I love to lick it off, okay? Also, it makes you last and last forever.”
“Last forever?” Gil didn’t look as though be wanted to last forever. In fact, Connie guessed, if he had his way he would probably come as soon as possible. Well, be had much to earn and she intended to start teaching him right now.
“Well, not forever,” she corrected, “but long enough for me to really get my kicks really sucking all the goodies from your thing.”
“Whatever you say,” Gil gasped, lying back again. He was in no mood to argue.
Connie uncorked the bottle and let the green liquid spill over the head of his prick and down over his balls. Then she set the bottle on the nightstand and began nursing with renewed vigor.
Now she was really sucking his cock, eating him, as they said, because she was swallowing the sweet-tasting liquid as though it were nectar oozing from every pore of his rod and testicles.
It made for more prolonged and closer contact with every speck of flesh which in turn heightened the sensation considerably. She knew the effect: once a man had poured a thick, sticky liqueur on her cunt before eating her and she had nearly been driven out of her mind! She would have to show Gil that trick some day soon, she thought, but for now she would have to be satisfied with first things first!
“Oh, sweet Christ,” Gil was moaning as she lapped the sweet-tasting elixir from his organ.
“Ohhhhh I don’t know what you’re doing but don’t ever stop. You’re-you’re gobbling me up… you’re taking every inch of cock and swallowing it up… Ohhhhhh…”
After a while, when the creme de menthe was gone, Connie ceased sucking briefly and raised her head. “Do you want to come in my mouth, Gil honey?”
“Do you — do you care?” he asked.
“No, darling. I just want to make you happy. If you want to come this way, you can. Then, we can fuck or whatever you want later. What do you say?”
Gil let out a gurgle, not quite a laugh. “Okay, okay,” he rasped. “You twisted my arm. But-but I’ll make it up to you, you’ll see you’ll see. Yes. Let me come this way — in your beautiful sucking mouth…”
“All right, sugar. Just lie back and let mama finish you off.”
Once again, Connie poured the liqueur from the bottle so that it ran in rivulets down Gil’s bone-hard shaft. Then she set about the loving task of cleansing the stiff rod dean of every trace. Better yet, she thought, maybe he would come before the last of the sweet-tasting liquid was gone. She had sucked her friend Rex once this way and he had achieved his orgasm while the liqueur still remained and the taste of the semen and the liquid had been exquisite — a drink to rival the most exotic cocktail imaginable! It had been thick in texture, like that of a brandy alexander or a grasshopper, but the flavor of the sperm had provided a tang that no bartender could ever hope to simulate.
Connie worked on and on, swallowing as she sucked, laying, cleansing, emitting appreciative sounds while Gil bucked and spasmed, nearly leaping from the bed.
At last, he began shuddering in a way that told be was approaching the finish. Good, she thought. The flavor of the mint was still strong on his eager wanger and she would have the pleasure of drinking a flavored load from her new lover. Her mouth gulped greedier in anticipation, waiting for the explosion of his balls and the stream of sperm that would spew from his prick. There, she thought. There, it’s coming!
And then her mouth was filled to the brim with the thick love cream, nice and mint flavored as poor Gil whimpered and whined in ecstasy.
“Ahhhhhhhhh!” he bellowed, writhing involuntarily as he held Connie’s head hard as though he feared she might pull away.
Connie held the rigid shaft firmly in her mouth, draining it pulsing head of every drop until finally Gil went limp. His jerking movements were like after-shocks of an earthquake as he twisted and rolled and writhed.
Connie gave his prick a parting farewell kiss and crawled up and whispered in his ear. “My baby liked that, didn’t he?” she asked. “Did my baby like the way mama sucked his precious prick?”
Still panting, Gil couldn’t speak. He merely grabbed her about the neck and pulled her to him in absolute gratitude.
“Pretty soon, if you feel up to it, we can do it again,” Connie said. “Creme de cocoa tastes nice too. I think you’d like that.”
Gil waved his hand protestingly, as if he didn’t think he could come again, either in this life or the next. He managed to mutter. “No, it’s-it’s your turn, Connie. I want to pour some of that stuff on you and make you come. But but first I have to rest a little.”
“Sure, love. You go ahead and rest. We have lots of time. Forever if we want. We can even order food sent up to the room and then do everything you’ve always dreamed of. You didn’t think you’d made such a bargain when you…” — she paused searching for a better word but couldn’t think of one — “… when you rented me for six months, did you?”
Gil groaned. “No,” he babbled. And then, “I want an option. At the end of six months I want an option to renew the contract.”
“Whatever you say, darling,” Connie said.
“Whatever you want, darling. We can re-negotiate at that time. For now, it stands at two-hundred-fifty dollars a week? Remember? I reduced the price because I felt you were a sort of challenge? Yes, think of it like one of those Swedish smorgasbord places. Two-hundred-and-fifty and all-you-can-eat!” She giggled at her sense of humor.
“Leave the bottle there,” Gil said. “I want to make hors d’oeuvres of your pussy before we order supper sent up from room service, okay?”
“I think that would be nice,” she said. “Ummm. I can just feel your tongue lapping all that sticky juice from between my legs. But you have to promise to shave first. I don’t want your old beard to spoil everything.”
Gil Turner reached up and rubbed his face.
“You’re right. I forgot to shave. Sorry. It shall be done.”
He got up then and went to the bathroom and Connie heard the sound of the electric shaver humming behind the closed door. She stretched and rubbed her jaw. Her mouth was only faintly tired. Yes, she thought, I’m going to enjoy this six months. I’ll make a stud and prize-winning pussy-lapper out of him yet. And maybe at the end of six months the re-negotiation of the contract will be far different than he ever dreamed. He had a wife, of course, but his wife apparently knew very little about lovemaking. Six months was enough time to make a man an addict. Plenty of time. Before long she’d have him singing, I’ve Got You Under My Foreskin.