Andrew Laird - Young girl sex club

"I know… I know," Ellen sighed wearily, holding up a hand to forestall their attack. "I know I'm a cop-out and a bummer, but I couldn't help it. You see, I met this surfer and it turned out he had a bunch of friends and… well… the first thing I knew it was too late to keep a date with Mike Fuda and…"

Joe Moto stirred uneasily and came awake. He listened to the commotion for a while. "I knew it," he scolded himself. "I knew them three cunts would be nothing but big trouble. Lucky if someone don't call the cops. Maybeso tomorrow I throw 'em out on their asses." But he knew he wouldn't… not as long as they paid the exorbitant rent he was charging them. His Oriental soul would have known no peace had he, through petulance, allowed his temper to cause him to miss the chance to make a profit.

Kalola awoke to a sense of well being. The raucous chatter of Myna birds had awakened her. From a distance came the sound of a riveting gun, indicating that another high-rise apartment was being erected. These were the sounds of Waikiki, and she smiled with contentment at this proof that she was home.

She considered her situation and decided it could easily be worse. It was true that, after paying one month's rent in advance, plus a cleaning deposit and a light and gas deposit, they were nearly broke. They had a month in which to raise more rent money, and when the time came that three pretty girls couldn't make out well enough to eat regularly, then Waikiki would really have changed.

She thought about her newly acquired friends and decided that they were plenty maikai… even if they were white and from the mainland. In her present, expansive mood, she was quite willing to forgive Ellen for goofing off with a bunch of surfers and forgetting her date with Mike Fuda. Still, there was the fact that something must be done about the state of their finances. She wrinkled her forehead and concentrated on the problem.

"Hey!" she exclaimed at last, "I betcha I know!" She threw back the sheet that had covered her, scrambled out of bed, her naked brown body gleaming in the soft light of morning, and ran to the other room where Lynn and Ellen slept. She found Lynn nude and sleeping on top of the bedspread, and she paused a moment to admire the white beauty of the redhead's seductively formed limbs and perfectly shaped breasts. "Yep," she said half-aloud, "she's just the one to pull it off. Lynn! Hey, Lynn, wake up!"

The red-haired girl stirred and opened her eyes.

"I gotta great idea," Kalola said excitedly, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I just remembered about Tony Nunez. He's a Portuguese guy who owns a big hotel out Pearl City way. He's got a big thing for white chicks with red hair. Any redhead can go ask him for a job and he puts her to work, no matter how dumb she is. Then, if she won't sleep with him, he fires her and hires another. They say he's got a Jap wife who gave him five kids and then crossed her legs when she caught him screwing one of the hotel maids. Come on, get dressed and we'll go to Pearl City. When you get him all set up, you bring him here and we take pictures… like we were gonna do with Mike and Ellen. How about it?"

Lynn raised an arm to look at her wrist watch, then turned sleepy, green eyes on Kalola. "At nine o'clock in the morning?"

"Sure," Kalola agreed heartily. "Like you guys on the mainland say: 'early worms are for the birds'. Come on, get up."

Lynn groaned and arose.

It took them two hours to dress, have coffee and ride to Pearl City on a bus that detoured leisurely down Hotel Street and the Kalihi District. The "big" hotel referred to by Kalola when she first mentioned its owner, Anthony Nunez, turned out to be a rather disreputable, third-rate establishment, but Lynn was not unduly discouraged. She had already been in Honolulu long enough to realize that rent being what it was, owning any hotel could be considered tantamount to owning a gold mine.

They crossed the faded carpet of the lobby to the desk where a fat Hawaiian woman, dark as any African, regarded their approach with silent suspicion. She admitted, although reluctantly, that Mr. Nunez was in his office.

"If you're looking for a job," she told Lynn with open animosity, "don't worry about it. He'll hire you, all right. You'll be the third one with red hair he's hired this month. I hope you remembered to bring your diaphragm."

"How sweet of you to remind me!" Lynn replied. "I suppose that was what you hotel girls used back in your day. Well, it's the Pill now, deary. But, of course, you wouldn't know about that."

Kalola giggled as they turned away from the desk. "Gosh, Lynn!" she whispered admiringly, "I'm going to learn a lot from you about being bitchy. This is the office. I'll wait down the street in the coffee shop. Good luck."

Lynn's knock was answered by a gruff "Come," and she opened the door to face the biggest, blackest man she had ever seen. That he was Portuguese she had no doubt. It showed in his classical features, his curly, black hair, and a certain Latin air, yet it was equally obvious that several other racial strains, all of them very dark, mingled liberally with the European blood line. She introduced herself timidly, overawed by his impressive bulk.

"I suppose you heard I hire redheads?" It was a question.

Lynn blushed. "Yes."

Nunez chewed thoughtfully on the dead cigar that jutted from a corner of his mouth. "And you figured you'd get next to me and then find a way of taking me." It was not a question. "Don't lie about it. They all got the same idea. You know what happens to them… those others who try that?" He laughed. "I give them jobs, fuck 'em and then fire 'em. If you want to play that game with me, it's okay. I'd like to fuck you, but don't get the idea you can make a sucker out of me. I'm too smart for you. Well, what do you say?"

Lynn didn't know what to say. She reasoned that she ought to be getting mad at him, but she wasn't. Kalola's scheme would have to be abandoned, that was certain, but what would she do right now? And yet she was reluctant to leave. Nunez was standing beside his desk, and she could not avoid noticing the growing bulge in the front of his pants. She wondered what it would be like to have his great bulk on top of her, and the thought brought an involuntary pelvic reaction that made her hips squirm.

"I won't deny that I had something like that in mind," she told him, "but I know when I'm beat. I'm broke and I need a job. I'd like to work for you."

He laughed, the booming sound of it filling the small office. "By God, you're all right!" he cried. "Okay, you got the job. You want to start tonight?"

"Oh, is it night work?"

He laughed again. "You better believe it." He handed her a key. "That's to Number Fourteen," he said, "on the top floor. Be there tonight at eight. Have your clothes off and your legs spread. I don't like to waste time. What's the matter? You think I was hiring you to scrub floors or something?"

"Nooo," Lynn admitted. "It's just that I'm not used to…"

"You'll get used to it," he interrupted. "Come here."

She took the two steps that brought her within his reach.

He didn't take her in his arms. Instead, he slowly and deliberately reached down for her skirt and drew it up around her waist, cocking his head on one side to study her exposed, lower body. "Yeah, that's what I like," he said with evident satisfaction, "good legs and hips. Turn around." He patted her on the fanny. "Nice ass, too. If I wasn't busy, I'd take you upstairs right now. Look here at this. You think you can take that much meat, huh?"

Lynn turned around to see that he had unzipped his fly and exposed the longest, blackest, biggest prick she had ever even heard of. It arched stiffly up, its circumcised head flat and broad, the shaft seeming to her as big as a beer bottle. She gasped at sight of it, her sharp intake of breath as much from surprise and interest as from dismay. She didn't want to touch it, but she couldn't help herself. Her hand stole timidly to the massive organ and cradled it gently, the slender, white fingers contrasting vividly with the velvety black flesh. She felt its warmth and the pulsing life in it and her crotch ached with sudden longing.