“We don’t want to waste it, do we?” she asked, getting to her feet.
“Well . . . No, I guess not.” Herb was still dazed with passion.
“But I think we’re ready now.” Her heart was pounding with desire, but Llona was determined to play her part right. “You look tired, honey,” she said. “You just lie there and I’ll undress you. Okay?”
“Sounds great.”
Llona bent over him and removed the shirt she’d unbuttoned before. Her fingers played over his chest for a moment, but when he tried to grab her, she danced teasingly away. “Don’t be so impatient, baby,” she told him.
She sank to her knees and wriggled sensuously back across the floor to him. When she reached him, she bent over his shoes, undid his shoelaces, pulled off his shoes and then his socks. She slid her hand all the way up between his legs, tickled him, and once again slid out of reach. She undulated back, grasped his pants firmly by the cuffs, and pulled them off. Then she strolled over to the closet, folded them neatly, and hung them up.
She returned to Herb once again. Her fingers undid the clasp of his shorts and slid down him intimately, tinglingly. Then she bent low over him for a moment, her lips pursed. They found their mark, drawing deeply, but pulling away before his wildly flailing hands could hold her there. “Naughty, naughty,” she said. “We mustn’t hurry. You just stay that way while little Llona takes off her clothes. They’re nice new clothes and she doesn’t want them to get all mussed up.”
Improvising, Llona turned the act of undressing into a tantalizing striptease. First she removed her dress and hung it in the closet, turning back toward Herb to run her hands the length of her silken slip in a caressing gesture which she punctuated sexily by rotating her hips. Next she kicked off her shoes, put one leg straight out on the edge of the bed, and began to remove her stockings. When they were both off, she whirled about the room a moment, raising and lowering her slip, letting Herb get an eyeful of her long, slender legs. Then she pulled her slip over her head, covering her face and thrusting the lower part of her body in a series of wild, suggestive gyrations. Pulling it off altogether, she held it over her head, turned her back to Herb, and did truly fantastic things with her plump little bottom. Still wriggling it provocatively, she took her slip and stockings to the closet and hung them up. Then she turned to face Herb and slid one strap of her, flimsy little bra down her shoulder. The breast she revealed was full and straining with passion. Herb got only a quick glimpse of the erect, quivering nipple before she pulled the strap up again. Laughing, Llona repeated the maneuver with the other strap. Then she reached behind her and released the clasp of the bra. But she didn't take it off. She just let it hang from her shoulders loosely, allowing her breasts to bobble against it temptingly, swiveling this way and that so that Herb could catch flashes of the firm contour of each one in profile. Finally, with a wild whirl which sent her hair flying, she tossed the bra into the closet and bared her voluptuous breasts brazenly to his eyes. She cupped them with her hands, and danced close to him to let their tips brush his eager hands and then away to jiggle them as if in happy anticipation of the love-making to come. Her hands moved down to her hips, and she moved more and more slowly as she began rolling her panties down. Except for a crucial area front and center, they were made of diaphanous material-—but Herb found the sight of her bare hips and buttocks call more exciting without even that wisp of transparent cloth to shield it. When the panties were rolled, all that was left to shield Llona was an approximation of the most teasing of G-strings. She kept this on for perhaps a moment more, standing in one place now, her body still except for this one covered area which seemed to have a pulsating life of its own. Then, slowly, delicately, she seemed to pull into herself and the panties fell to the floor at her feet. She kicked them with sure aim into the closet and seemed to melt onto the bed.
“I’m ready whenever you are.” Her voice was soft as she looked at Herb. Her eyes traveled slowly down his body and then stopped as she found what she was seeking. “And I see that you are ready,” she observed, the words an admiring whisper. “Ooh, so very, very ready.” Her body arched toward him from the bed. “Now, lover, now!”
Herb didn't need a second invitation. He fairly hurled himself across the room. Her arms opened wide, her legs curved hungrily to receive him. Then Herb was astride her, poised to bring to fruition the ecstasy which Llona had raised to such a high pitch of expectation. But --
“OPEN UP IN THERE!” The pounding on the door which accompanied the demand boomed like an all-out artillery barrage in their ears.
They froze, passion melting away like Jello in the hot sun, panic replacing it. “What's that?” Llona whispered hoarsely.
“I don’t know,” Herb whispered back. Then, with an effort, he raised his voice. “Who’s there?” he called. “What do you want?” The word “want” came out as a high-pitched squeak.
“House detective!” came the answer. “You got a woman in there?”
“Of course not!” Herb’s voice had the pitch of a recently made castrati.
“I’ll have to look around. Let me in.”
“Just a minute.” Herb looked around frantically, as though expecting some kind of help to pop out of the woodwork. “Quick,” he told Llona, “get into the bathroom. I’ll try to keep him out of there.”
Terrified, Llona did as he told her, closing the door behind her.
“Come on,” yelled the voice, “quit stalling! You gonna open this door, or do I have to break it down?”
“Co— Corning.” Herb quickly closed the closet door to hide Llona’s clothes from view and crossed over to open the door leading to the hallway. A burly man barged past him, his eyes darting about the room suspiciously.
“All right, where is she? I know you got a woman in here.”
“You’re mistaken, officer.”
“The hell I am! You know it’s against the law in this state to bring a woman to a hotel room unless you’re married. You could get five years. And if she’s a hustler—and from the way the elevator operator who spotted her described her, that’s exactly what she is -- it means the county workhouse for her. Now, where is she?”
“You can see for yourself there’s no woman here.” Herb wished his voice would stop quavering.
The detective gave him a disbelieving look, strode over to the closet, and threw the door open wide. “No woman, huh,” he said with satisfaction. He picked Llona’s panties up and twirled them about on the end of his middle finger like a streetcorner sharpie swinging a keyring. “Then how do you explain these? You in drag or something?”
While all this had been going on, Llona had been crouched in terror on the other side of the bathroom door, wondering what to do. She tried to listen through the door, but the elevator operator had been telling the truth when he said all the rooms were soundproofed, and she couldn’t hear a word. Then, while she watched in horror, the doorknob turned, and the door was pushed open a fraction of an inch and then slammed shut again.
On the other side of it, Herb was trying desperately to keep the detective out of the bathroom. “I tell you she’s not in there,” he said for perhaps the third time. “There is no woman here.”