She breathed out in relief to discover Fran's body was warm. That the blood pounded strongly under the surface of her smooth, white skin.
Sitting up, Renee took stock of her situation. It was reassuring to realize she was fully dressed. She slipped her hand under the waistband of her skirt and heaved another sigh of relief. She still had her panties.
The room was tiny and Renee was certain she had never seen it before. Aside from the two beds, it had a washbasin and nothing else. It was stripped as bare as Fran's butt. Renee started to giggle at the thought, and then stopped, shocked.
What was funny about that? She wondered. She felt curiously lightheaded. When she stood the room swayed around her, her stomach protested, and then she sat down again… hard.
At least the jolt stopped the swaying. Closing her eyes tight, she tried to count to ten. Instead her mind filled with questions.
Where was Alex? He was a stranger. But with her eyes closed a half-blurred picture of his face pulsed in front of her. She had a warm memory of strength and reassurance. Dimly, she remembered him sprawled on the couch and sliding down, down into the darkness where she couldn't see.
That was foolish, thinking of Alex. Angry, she shook herself and opened her eyes.
The door was open and the Mexican with the fancy clothes, Fran's Casanova, was standing inside looking at her.
"Ah! You have woken up, chica!"
His voice was soft but barbed with a hint of cruelty. Renee shivered, suddenly very much afraid. No longer was she able to keep that fear pushed out of sight. "Where are we?" Her voice quavered uncontrollably and broke.
"With me, of course."
"I want to get out of here!"
"Si, senorita. Nobody is keeping you. After last night," the Mexican chucked with his tongue and rolled his eyes, "I had to do something. I could not leave your friend out like that, no?" He gestured toward Fran and smiled.
Renee smiled back. She couldn't help herself. There was something so attractive about this man… Now she knew why Fran had fallen all over him so fast and she didn't blame her a bit. He radiated such a feeling of confidence just by being in the same room that it seemed already as if everything was all right.
"Could you find her something to wear?" she asked, almost shyly.
"Of course. Porque no?" He stepped closer to her, and Renee could smell a fresh masculine scent from his body. "If you are still tired, why don't you go back to sleep, little one? When you wake up I will have everything you need."
"No. We should leave now."
"Of course. If you insist." He put his hand on her shoulder. She could feel the heat of his palm caressing her as he gently pushed her back on the bed. She tried to resist, but it was so much easier staring up into his soft, brown eyes.
He leaned and kissed her mouth. His hot lips seared into her. His mouth felt on fire. She tried to swallow the heat in her own mouth and she moaned.
His hand was on her breast. It was burning her alive. She squirmed against him, and then he was easing her sweater up over her body and she was arching and mewing, helping him to get it off. Her bra followed.
The cold air striking her tits felt good. It was wonderful on her bare flesh and when she rubbed against him it was like scratching an itch that she hadn't been able to get to before. The ruffled front of his silk shirt felt wonderful. She pulled him down on her and arched against it, letting her tits slide against the cool, bunched material. A button pressed into her nipple hard and round and cold. It sent a shiver through her body as she imagined it to be his teeth instead.
His hands had traveled down to her waist. They were undoing the zipper at her back. Then she was wiggling out of the skirt, kicking it into a heap on the floor.
Renee cried out softly as his fingers slid down her lower belly, stripping the taut, nylon panties from her belly, drawing them down over her legs where they pulled her thighs together, past her knees and finally, soundlessly over her ankles.
He ran his hand back up her leg, along the inside, up her thigh to where her body stopped his fingers.
It was agonizing, waiting. He didn't move. He touched her so gently she couldn't feel him and she wanted to feel him.
Tightening her arms around his neck, Renee pulled him against her. "Please," she moaned. "Please!"
She felt something tickling. It was so faint she almost wasn't sure. And then it was running coolly over the lips of her vagina, around and around, tantalizing but not entering. Renee's breath was hot in her throat and nostrils. She was breathing like a bitch in heat and she didn't care or at least, part of her didn't care and the other part couldn't control her.
Her hips were jerking and she was crying.
Around the moving fingers she could feel the moisture from her slit spreading out on her thighs, wetting everything, herself, the bed, his hand.
"Don't," she sobbed, "don't!"
But she didn't try to stop him when his fingers found her little stem and began to stroke it. The friction made her want to cry out in ecstasy and she spread her legs wider.
And then he was undressing. He knelt next to her head and his penis dangled down his leg. It wasn't long, but it was fat and purplish. It almost touched her cheek.
Hesitantly she stuck her tongue out and licked its tip, touching the hole in the head. Instantly, it stiffened and arched out a little.
She lapped at it and then he was pushing it into her mouth. I don't want this, she thought to herself in dismay. But her body called her a liar. Her mouth sucked greedily at his mushrooming prick. She felt it swelling and growing in her mouth and still it wasn't enough. She wanted it to get bigger and bigger. To fill her mouth. To fill her whole body.
She sucked noisily on the round rod. Her red lips ran over it like fingers stripping a cow's teat. Traces of lipstick began to streak his cock and he was pushing it in and out of her mouth, holding her hair.
And then the hot milk flooded her mouth, ran into her throat and she could feel it warming her all the way to her belly.
Renee wanted to lay there and savor the lassitude she felt. But Casanova had moved between her legs and caught them with his arms under her knees pulling them up.
Something hard poked her crack, off center. Jabbed again. Renee groaned. Automatically, her hips were swaying, trying to help.
The rod hit her again and then was shoving deep inside her in one complete motion that seemed as if it would never stop.
Her knees were crammed alongside her body squeezing into her as the Mexican bent her double and drove into her crotch with all his weight. She cried as he slammed into her, as she lifted her butt and slammed back at him.
She cried as she pressed herself tight to him faster and faster and faster until he stopped her and leaned heavily on her. She felt his cock swelling inside her, his lips were on her breasts, his teeth were digging into her nipple.
And then she was being filled from the inside with burning hot foam that cooked her whole body.
Casanova got off her and she sighed, stretching her arms to him. He slid away from them, gently catching her wrist and holding it over her head. Renee sighed contentedly. As long as he held even her wrist she felt full, well.
He moved down the bed. To her feet. His hand was warm on the flesh of her calf. She stretched, luxuriously.
Suddenly she was wide awake, the fear button flooding her body again. Her wrist was still being held. But Casanova was at the foot of the bed.
Opening her eyes and twisting her head she stared up and screamed.
A leather strap held her left wrist to the head of the bed!
Casanova stood up and Renee heaved her body like a hooked fish on the end of a line. Another leather strap clasped her right ankle. She was stretched helpless between the two of them.