Roland DeForrest - The Erotic Quest of Dirk and Honey

Здесь есть возможность читать онлайн «Roland DeForrest - The Erotic Quest of Dirk and Honey» весь текст электронной книги совершенно бесплатно (целиком полную версию без сокращений). В некоторых случаях можно слушать аудио, скачать через торрент в формате fb2 и присутствует краткое содержание. Жанр: Эротика, Секс, на английском языке. Описание произведения, (предисловие) а так же отзывы посетителей доступны на портале библиотеки ЛибКат.

The Erotic Quest of Dirk and Honey: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

Предлагаем к чтению аннотацию, описание, краткое содержание или предисловие (зависит от того, что написал сам автор книги «The Erotic Quest of Dirk and Honey»). Если вы не нашли необходимую информацию о книге — напишите в комментариях, мы постараемся отыскать её.

The Erotic Quest of Dirk and Honey — читать онлайн бесплатно полную книгу (весь текст) целиком

Ниже представлен текст книги, разбитый по страницам. Система сохранения места последней прочитанной страницы, позволяет с удобством читать онлайн бесплатно книгу «The Erotic Quest of Dirk and Honey», без необходимости каждый раз заново искать на чём Вы остановились. Поставьте закладку, и сможете в любой момент перейти на страницу, на которой закончили чтение.

Тёмная тема
Сбросить

Интервал:

Закладка:

Сделать

He stooped again and went out through the opening, reappearing shortly with a young girl in tow. “This is Leaha. She works at the hotel Taj Ganges. And speaks good English.”

Honey stared down into the lovely, nutmeg-colored face. The child was no more than eleven, and her huge black eyes were fixed in complete absorption on the dusky rose nipples of Honey’s breasts. “Pleased to meet you, Leaha. Thank you for coming such a long way. My name is Honey,” she said warmly, and bent to her purse. She brought up the photo of the young blonde. “Have you ever seen this girl before?”

The raven-black eyes locked on the photo and she nodded slowly. “Yes,” she replied. “This last week.” Her voice was as melodious as wind chimes.

“Is she still at the hotel?”

“No. She left two days ago.”

Disappointment flooded Honey, and for a moment she stared into the child’s face, transfixed by her innocent trustfulness. “Did you see her father?”

The child frowned and looked up questioningly at Pagala Baba. He spoke a few words in Hindi to her, and she returned her solemn gaze to Honey. “The man is not her father.”

“He’s not? How can you be sure?”

A fragile smile graced her small mouth. “Fathers do not do such things to their daughters.”

Honey asked with trepidation. “Do what, my dear?”

Again the child looked to the young holy man, and he smiled encouragingly. She ducked her head and whispered, “I was in the closet, folding sheets, when I saw them join in Tantric union.”

In surprise, Honey swept her gaze to Pagala Baba. He merely shrugged. Her concern began to mount, and she felt an even more pressing urgency to find Dirk’s mysterious blonde. Quickly she rattled off several questions: “Do you know where they went? Do you know the name they were registered under? Do you know if they were traveling with two men? Do you know what currency they paid with?” To each of these, she received a grave shaking of the head. The child knew nothing beyond what she had said.

Hurriedly, Honey began pulling on her clothes. “Leaha, I can’t thank you enough for your help.”

“I am sorry I do not do more.”

“You are a dear, sweet child. Tell me, this young blonde girl-was she happy? Did she seem to be with this older man by choice?”

“Oh, no,” Leaha replied quickly. “She was very sad. Cried all the time. I think she was very unhappy. The man… he was not pure.”

“Pure? What do you mean?”

She locked her eyes on Honey’s face. “He has unclean karma. He is evil man.”

5

DIRK

In the muggy night breeze, he hurried across the grassy, parklike Plaza Bolivar, past the stone Palace of the Inquisition, built in 1770, and ducked down a narrow, cobblestone street lit by iron lamps, searching for the small nightclub. Dirk had been in Cartagena, on the Caribbean coast of Colombia, for only three hours, and it had taken him that long to check into the luxurious Hilton resort out on the Boca Grande Peninsula, then shower, change his clothes, and find out where the reported belly dancer would be performing. The oddity of a Middle Eastern club tucked deep in the center of the old Spanish-founded city did not escape him. But since few people he had approached in the city spoke English, there was no one to tell him how such a club came into being.

Sinbad’s Cave turned out to be a tiny establishment deep in the bowels of an ancient fort. Inside, the air was blue with smoke and the place was packed to the stone walls with patrons, mainly Columbian businessmen, lounging on mirrored pillows around small brass-topped tables that ringed a small dance floor. Off to one side, in front of a purple tapestry cloth, an authentic band of Middle Eastern musicians played their instruments as two averagely attractive females in traditional harem garb twirled and danced, displaying a great deal of skin but, in Dirk’s opinion, not much talent.

He sank to an available pillow against the rear wall and tried to find a comfortable position for his long legs. Already he was doubting the information he had received from his New York photographer pal. The prospect of finding an exact duplicate of the enchanting blonde of Central Park, performing here in such a dingy hole, was almost too absurd to contemplate. But Dirk was so obsessed with finding the magical young woman that he would willingly have journeyed by dogsled to Siberia in the dead of winter to track down any possible lead.

The club’s entertainment dragged on, the weird, atonal music loud and irritating, heavy on the beat of odd-shaped drums and wailing, nasal-sounding wind instruments; the parade of women performers danced as if they had been trained in burlesque, and perfunctorily went through their routines with bored expressions on their perspiring faces. The density of smoke increased, as did Dirk’s headache. An hour into the show, he was positive he’d seen all the dancers, and not one bore even a faint resemblance to the girl of his quest. He was about to chalk up the entire trip as a damned dead end, when the master of ceremonies-a rotund, swarthy little man dressed only in a beaded vest and baggy orange satin pants-stepped to the microphone to announce in Spanish the main attraction, “Jamilia.” Enthusiastic applause and cheers from the spectators greeted the news, as if they had been waiting for this moment.

The lights blinked off, the foreign-sounding music began again, and suddenly, in a white spotlight, a tall figure appeared, swathed from head to toe in gauzy blue veils. She swayed and twirled to the slow music, remaining completely covered except for a small open band across her eyes. Dirk strained forward and felt a stirring in his groin. Unlike the previous performers, this one was obviously talented. Her movements were graceful, rhythmic, highly sensual, and the more she danced, the more she raised his curiosity and his bird of paradise. He could not believe how aroused he’d become in such a short time-especially by a totally covered woman.

The pounding music picked up tempo and she spun faster, holding out the top veil, forming a billowy canopy of blue over her still-covered head. Dipping, swaying, gyrating, she gradually lowered the blue veil, revealing a creamy expanse of bouncing breast packed tightly into a skimpy bra covered with gold coins. An excited, guttural cheer broke from the men around Dirk. With her face hidden behind a smaller veil, Jamilia danced fluidly, slowly lowering the large veil in her hands. Glimpses of her breathtaking figure were possible now. Her slightly rounded belly undulated and rolled. In her navel, a large emerald glistened and twinkled like a small green island of calm in the midst of a windswept white lake. Low on her rounded, swiveling hips, another band of gold coins clinked in rhythm to her erotic movements, a small girdle of tinkling sounds. A full skirt of shiny blue material, split enticingly up the front, swept around her in a full circle and her creamy thighs flashed through, and now and then her perfectly proportioned legs.

One look at the fully rounded figure, the large white breasts jiggling provocatively, told Dirk for certain that whoever this Jamilia was, she could not be the exact duplicate of his mystery blonde. That beauty he’d found in Central Park had been a mere girl no more than sixteen.years old, and though she was spectacular, she did not as yet possess such a full-blown womanly body. However, in the heat of this moment, he was so entranced by the accomplished dancer before him that he did not care; he was dying of curiosity to see her face.

As if Jamilia had read his mind, at that precise instant, with her back to the audience, her hands rose gracefully to the scarf covering her head. With a quick tug, she yanked free the gauzy piece of material and shook loose a mass of striking blonde hair that tumbled past her shoulders, shimmering like spun gold in the bright spotlight.

Читать дальше
Тёмная тема
Сбросить

Интервал:

Закладка:

Сделать

Похожие книги на «The Erotic Quest of Dirk and Honey»

Представляем Вашему вниманию похожие книги на «The Erotic Quest of Dirk and Honey» списком для выбора. Мы отобрали схожую по названию и смыслу литературу в надежде предоставить читателям больше вариантов отыскать новые, интересные, ещё непрочитанные произведения.


Отзывы о книге «The Erotic Quest of Dirk and Honey»

Обсуждение, отзывы о книге «The Erotic Quest of Dirk and Honey» и просто собственные мнения читателей. Оставьте ваши комментарии, напишите, что Вы думаете о произведении, его смысле или главных героях. Укажите что конкретно понравилось, а что нет, и почему Вы так считаете.

x