Gale Grayson - Door-to-door sex-girl

"And maybe later on we'll have another distinguished gentlemen, but I won't be able to tell you his name yet!" Hugo was still talking, as Jack and Bruce began helping themselves to Scotch-on-the-rocks.

Groaning, Virginia objected. "Do you mean there're going to be five men… who-who…?"

"Are going to fuck you, Virginia baby! That's right! After the way you made it with Art and me, you'll have no trouble at all with five! Why, Christ! I think that hot little pussy of yours should be able to handle ten men!"

Virginia shuddered at the thought that he had somehow intended that as some kind of compliment. It was too bizarre even to consider. "You're crazy if you think I'm going t-to agree… to th-that!"

"You don't have a choice!" Hugo told her. "Take off that robe so Jack and Bruce can get a good look at you!" His eyes bored into her, and the commanding figure and voice of him caused her to obey.

She shrugged off the terry robe. Underneath, she was wearing a skimpy bikini which left almost nothing to the imagination. Amid lewd compliments from the four men in the room, she looked around dazedly to see them crowding around her and reaching out to fondle her almost naked body. In a moment, one of the men (she thought it was Jack Keller) had untied her brassiere top. Hugo plucked it from her to expose the lush vision of her full mounded breasts. "See what I mean?" Hugo croaked gloatingly. "Isn't that the prettiest pair of tits you've ever seen?"

"Damned right!" Bruce Holcombe reached out to cup and caress one of her faintly quivering breasts.

Then Arthur Hartman was untying her bikini bottom and pulling it down over the ripely curving swell of her hips and buttocks. She was naked in the midst of four virile, salaciously turned-on men, and as she glanced around at them, seeing the lewd desire in their burning eyes, she couldn't help noticing the massive bulges in their pants. Ooooohhh, my God! They're serious! They're really going to d-do it to m-me! All four of them!

Awaking with a start from his dozing sleep, Leon Brooks looked around to see that Virginia was not there beside him in the lounge chair; neither was she in the water. Damn! She took off! He got up and walked away from the pool area, thinking that he would check their room first. Seeing the cocktail waitress, he signaled her to him and inquired whether she had seen his wife leave the pool.

The green-eyed, red-haired waitress thought a moment. "She's blonde, right? Oh, yeah, I remember, she was paged for a phone call… and she went off somewhere with two men…"

Leon thanked her with a generous tip, went to the main desk of the hotel and found out the number of the Foxx room. He called on the telephone from his room, when he found that his wife wasn't there.

"Hello?" It was Annabelle.

"Annabelle? Do you know where your husband is?"

"Is this Leon?"

"Yeah!"

"He's off to some special meeting in another room. Why?"

"Virginia's gone!"

"And you think she's with Hugo?"

"Maybe… I don't know. If you see her, tell her I'm looking for her, okay?"

"Okay, I sure will, Leon."

There was little promise of getting anything going with Hugo's wife right away, he decided, although her voice was warm and concerned. Anyway, there's still plenty of time for that! Right then, his chief interest was in locating his wife. A call to the Hartmans' room was fruitless; there was no answer. Damn! There's at least a hundred and fifty other rooms in this hotel… and she's in one of them! She's got to be! But how in the hell do I go about finding her? He got dressed and started making the rounds of the public places in the hotel: bars, dining rooms, shops, beauty salons. He even checked the swimming pool again… to no avail…

"Y-you can't!" Virginia choked. "You can't d-do this t-to me!"

"The hell we can't!" Hugo told her, taking charge again. "Come along… into the bedroom!" He took her by the upper arm and propelled her toward the bedroom door.

The other three crowded in after them. Art Hartman closed the door and locked it. Dazedly, Virginia looked around the room and saw that the bed had been disassembled, the mattress placed on the floor. But as her eyes focused on an upholstered chair in the corner, she saw that it was occupied by another man. He sat there, in his shorts, pulling on a drink, his handsome but vacuous face looking up at her, his dark eyes in a contrasting pasty complexion lighting up with interest as they swept over her appreciatively.

"Very nice, Hugo!" the seated man complimented. "She'll do… if she's clean!"

"She is!" Hugo rumbled.

The implication was clear to her instantly. My God! He thinks I-I'm a prostitute! "How dare you!" Virginia flared out at them.

Hugo ignored her outburst and said, "She's one of ours, Stan. She works under Hartman."

"I see…" The man Hugo had called Stan stood and went on, "That's good enough for me!"

Setting his drink aside, he came to Virginia, his eyes now filled with raw lust, and took her into his arms, pressing her close, until the warmth of his throbbing erection was tight against her abdomen, only the cloth of his shorts separating them. He ran his hands down her back and his fingers dug into the plaint softness of her moonlike buttocks. "Yes! She's definitely all right!" he murmured. Virginia stood stiffly, refusing to respond to him, even though she had noticed that the other men, including Hugo Foxx, seemed to be deferential to him. He revolted her. But he must be important! She wondered then whether he could be the president of Eko-Klean, a man she had heard about but not yet seen. He's supposed to give a speech at dinner, this evening…

Stan was walking her backward now. Her bare feet slid reluctantly across the rug until the backs of her ankles touched the mattress on the floor. Then he pushed her lush young body down onto the top of the mattress and stepped back to divest himself of his shorts, stripping them down over his thighs to reveal his long, thin, slightly curving penis lancing out almost horizontally from the graying black curls of his pubic hair. He must dye his hair! Then she thought about that overly handsome face and wondered: Maybe he's had plastic surgery! That means he's really older than he looks! Finally, she knew. Stan? Of course! He must be the president of Eko-Klean… Stanley S. Townsend, the Second!

It was almost as though Townsend's action was a signal. As Virginia knelt there on the mattress and Stan began lowering himself down beside her, the other four men started undressing. An awesome sight it was for her, too, as one by one they shed their clothing rapidly, and massively hard cocks were revealed in a pulsating ring around her. She already knew that there was no escape for her… but if it had to happen, she'd have to have something to bolster her.

"I'd like to have a drink," she said.

"Okay, baby!" It was Art Hartman who responded. "I'll get it for you!" Then, to the other men, he observed, "She's a hell of a lot better lay when she's got some liquor in her!"

Hugo growled, "Hell, she's just stalling!" He reached for her and stretched her out beside him on the mattress, capturing her lips to kiss her hard, his tongue lashing deep into her half-open mouth.

Below, she felt hands prying her clamped-together legs apart, then begin caressing the inner softness of her nakedly sensitive thighs, with fingers running all the way upward between her widely spread legs to play in the golden curls for a moment, before an outstretched finger slipped down into the warm cuntal slit to titillate the already hardening bud of her clitoris. She was pretty sure that it was Stanley Townsend who was stimulating her there. Then another pair of hands was cupping and fondling her ripely straining breast on the opposite side from Hugo. The fingers dug into the tender softness of it, and she winced. The fingers relaxed; a man's moistly heated mouth was there now, sucking hard on the sensitive nipple, which sent quivering chills of ecstasy shimmering through her body. God! It was happening again! All those delicious sensations! I-I just can't resist them! I get so hot… so fast!