"That feels good. Push it all the way in. Ooooh, honey, that feels good… sooo good!" she said, squeezing his cock. It was good and hard again.
"Since I've worked here, I've seen a lot of rich bitches with hot pants, but you're the hottest yet." He had two fingers in her cunt.
"Are they always married women?"
"Not always. Several have been young gals with their parents. One was only thirteen, and did she ever want it bad. So I gave it to her, compliments of the house."
"Once I had a mother and daughter in the same night. The old lady walked in while I was balling her kid. She was sixteen or seventeen and her old lady must have been fifty. She had been down in the bar for three hours while her old man went off riding or something and she was crocked to the gills. She flew into a hell of a rage when she caught us, but it was a cover-up because she hadn't been able to pick up a man in the bar. I ended up fucking her in the ass while her innocent little daughter watched."
Eva squirmed against his hand, so hot she knew she had lost control. She wanted to be fucked and knew she would be fucked, yet had to play the game with herself. What's the use, she told herself, I've already been unfaithful to John. One more time won't hurt, but this is positively the last time. She was young, only nineteen, and in need of a man, a vibrant, hard man. John seemed so old all of a sudden, and he hadn't touched her in three days. She felt like she was all cunt.
"Let's fuck now," she said.
He continued finger-fucking her. "The married ones are always the best lays, though. Hotter and always more willing to do odd-ball things. You're on your honeymoon, ain't you?"
"Yes." Eva whispered, feeling ashamed. "Why don't you just shut up and fuck me?"
"I never had one on her honeymoon before. They're usually too starry-eyed." He was teasing her now. "What's the matter? Your old man having trouble getting it up?"
Eva sat up, his fingers still deep inside her cunt. "That's not funny. I think I'll go back to my room."
He roughly pushed her back down. "Don't get huffy, baby, or I might not screw you."
Eva gasped when his fingers came from her cunt. She sighed when he quickly got on top of her and pushed the head of his prick against the wet cuntlips. Her arms went around his hips and her legs opened wider to let him in. He pushed and the fat head popped inside, followed quickly by the long, hard stem.
"Jesus, you're wet and slick in there," he said, feeling his cock slide easily all the way in.
"Yes, yes," she hissed, "my husband, who can't get it up, fucked me royally just before I came down to the pool." She felt she had to lie to him to save face, and hunched her ass to try and get more cock. There wasn't any more cock to get. She had it all. "Fuck me hard," she cried.
"You are one hot pussy," he said, starting a steady fucking rhythm.
Her cunt clasped his prick hungrily. He was amazed that she would be so tight; it went in so easily that he thought she would be a slop job, but her cunt was as tight as an asshole. He knew he couldn't last long and hoped he could bring her off before he came.
He really didn't have to worry, because she coming already. She moaned and twisted against the big, moving thing thrusting into her belly.
"You know," he said, trying to slow his pace, "your husband could be up there on his balcony watching us."
"Yes… he could, but don't stop," she gasped. She was on the verge of coming again. "Oooh, that's so good. Keep fucking, keep fucking!" Her legs had gone up around his back.
"I'm getting close," he gasped.
"Okay… okay… okay," she cried. "I'm there, too. You can come inside me, I want to feel it." Her legs had gone straight up in the air, her arms wrapped around his neck, her ass lunging up to meet each thrust. And then she felt his wet, slick cum squirting inside her.
He pumped several times and went limp. "Ah, baby, that's what I call fucking," he gasped.
"Yes," she whispered, putting her mouth on his. She felt wonderful, relaxed and wonderful, and finally admitted it to herself. She liked being fucked more than anything else in the world and with any man. To hell with all the bullshit that always fucked up her mind. This was what it was all about; a stiff cock and a wet and ready pussy to take it in. She wanted him to fuck her again, right now.
"Can you do it again?" she asked.
"Actually, I'd have to say no," he said. "Besides, I have to get down to the city. Have commitments there."
"Surely you have time for a drink?" she said sarcastically.
"Not really," he said, sitting up, "but I'll take time, anyway." He picked up the bottle and took a swig and handed it to Eva. She followed suit and passed it back.
They talked and passed the bottle back and forth until it was empty. They were both quite drunk.
"How you gonna get back up to your room?" he said, tossing the empty bottle into the shrubbery.
"Take the elevator. How else?"
"It could be embarrassing. You're naked and your suit's at the bottom of the pool."
"I'll dive in and get it," she said.
"It's in eight feet of water. You'll drown."
"Like shit," she said, getting to her feet. She raced for the pool, almost fell, and went awkwardly into the water. She came back up sputtering. "Too fuckin' deep," she said, barely getting to the edge of the pool.
Bob was standing beside the pool now. "My suit should be right down here somewhere."
"I think it drifted down to the middle with mine," she said.
"Shit," he said, then shrugged. "What the hell. I live in a cottage behind the hotel. I can get there without being seen, but you got a problem."
"Ever fuck a girl in the water?" Eva said.
"No, can't say that I have."
"Now's your chance."
He looked down at her, her boobs halfway out of the water as if they were water wings holding her up. "I think I'll pass, baby. I have to get into town, and I couldn't get it up again, anyway." He waved at her and turned and walked away.
She watched him go into the tall shrubbery and pass from sight. She thought again about trying to retrieve her suit, but gave up the idea and pulled herself from the water. It might be tricky getting up to her suite, but it was late and she could take the stairs.
She got to the fourth floor and inside her door. Breathing a heavy sigh, she pushed the door shut with her ass. She went to the bar and poured herself a drink. The liquor went down easily hitting bottom heavily. Her head started to spin.
"Eva, is that you?" her husband's voice came from the bedroom.
"Yes, it's me," she said quickly.
"Where the hell have you been?"
"I-I couldn't sleep. I went for a walk," she said. And got fucked, you bastard, she thought.
"Don't you know it's dangerous to wander about at this hour?" his voice said, still from the bedroom.
"I thought it would be safe here," she said.
"You're probably right. Nothing could happen to you here. Now come on to bed."
She finished her drink, took another straight from the bottle, and staggered in to her bed. John was already back asleep. Eva crawled under the satin sheet and quickly passed out, a silly, satisfied grin on her face.
CHAPTER SEVEN
When John awakened at six, Eva was sprawled nude, half on the bed, half off. He looked at her with distaste and went into the bathroom and turned on the cold water in the shower. Exactly eleven minutes later, he left the suite. He had hot tea and unbuttered toast in the coffee shop and then went directly to the stables. As he crossed the courtyard, he saw Roxanne waiting for him. She smiled and waved.
John had learned a great deal about Roxanne DeWinter in the past three days. She was forty-one years old and a widow. She married Abraham DeWinter when she was twenty-two and he was sixty-seven. He died of a stroke at eighty-four, leaving her a wealthy woman. It had been a good marriage as May-December marriages go, and since Abraham had been active up to the end, her sexual contacts outside her marriage had been few, yet she wasn't the frustrated widow she led John to believe. She had a seventeen-year-old son who was a robust, sexually advanced boy. He called his mother Roxy and she called him Ronny darling.