And then her mouth was filled to the brim with the thick love cream, nice and mint flavored as poor Gil whimpered and whined in ecstasy.
"Ahhhhhhhhh!" he bellowed, writhing involuntarily as he held Connie's head hard as though he feared she might pull away.
Connie held the rigid shaft firmly in her mouth, draining it pulsing head of every drop until finally Gil went limp. His jerking movements were like after-shocks of an earthquake as he twisted and rolled and writhed.
Connie gave his prick a parting farewell kiss and crawled up and whispered in his ear. "My baby liked that, didn't he?" she asked. "Did my baby like the way mama sucked his precious prick?"
Still panting, Gil couldn't speak. He merely grabbed her about the neck and pulled her to him in absolute gratitude.
"Pretty soon, if you feel up to it, we can do it again," Connie said. "Creme de cocoa tastes nice too. I think you'd like that."
Gil waved his hand protestingly, as if he didn't think he could come again, either in this life or the next. He managed to mutter. "No, it's-it's your turn, Connie. I want to pour some of that stuff on you and make you come. But but first I have to rest a little."
"Sure, love. You go ahead and rest. We have lots of time. Forever if we want. We can even order food sent up to the room and then do everything you've always dreamed of. You didn't think you'd made such a bargain when you…" – she paused searching for a better word but couldn't think of one – "… when you rented me for six months, did you?"
Gil groaned. "No," he babbled. And then, "I want an option. At the end of six months I want an option to renew the contract."
"Whatever you say, darling," Connie said.
"Whatever you want, darling. We can re-negotiate at that time. For now, it stands at two-hundred-fifty dollars a week? Remember? I reduced the price because I felt you were a sort of challenge? Yes, think of it like one of those Swedish smorgasbord places. Two-hundred-and-fifty and all-you-can-eat!" She giggled at her sense of humor.
"Leave the bottle there," Gil said. "I want to make hors d'oeuvres of your pussy before we order supper sent up from room service, okay?"
"I think that would be nice," she said. "Ummm. I can just feel your tongue lapping all that sticky juice from between my legs. But you have to promise to shave first. I don't want your old beard to spoil everything."
Gil Turner reached up and rubbed his face.
"You're right. I forgot to shave. Sorry. It shall be done."
He got up then and went to the bathroom and Connie heard the sound of the electric shaver humming behind the closed door. She stretched and rubbed her jaw. Her mouth was only faintly tired. Yes, she thought, I'm going to enjoy this six months. I'll make a stud and prize-winning pussy-lapper out of him yet. And maybe at the end of six months the re-negotiation of the contract will be far different than he ever dreamed. He had a wife, of course, but his wife apparently knew very little about lovemaking. Six months was enough time to make a man an addict. Plenty of time. Before long she'd have him singing, I've Got You Under My Foreskin.
CHAPTER FOUR
Downstairs, still at poolside, Victor and Sherry were discussing her upcoming engagement in the Alpine Hotel at Lake Tahoe. Closing night at the Lucky Nuggett was only three days from now and Sherry was looking forward to it. Oddly, her attitude toward engagements followed a familiar pattern. She was always eager to move on to the next engagement, but by the time the engagement was over, no matter what its duration, she felt eager to move on to the next one.
She felt a special fondness for Lake Tahoe, though. After the frenzied pace and atmosphere of Las Vegas she yearned for the mountains and the calming effect of the tall trees and the clear blue lake. She thought of Lake Tahoe as a kind of vacation place, a refuge.
True, there was gambling there and all that went with the rolling of the dice, the turning of the cards and the clank of slot machines, but the tempo of life there seemed more leisurely. Also, according to Gil, there was a good chance that her weekly salary would increase there. An increase in salary was not so much a monetary thing as it was a badge. Money was nice, of course, but entertainers seem to rank themselves according to the money they earn. It was an indication of success and, therefore, ten-thousand-dollar-a-week acts were more successful than, say, eight-thousand-dollar-a-week acts. This was an obvious fact, but nevertheless prestige seemed to count for more than the salaries themselves. At least for Sherry.
The thought of salary increase reminded her of Gil's remark. "Do you really think we'll start earning more in Tahoe?" she asked.
Victor Redgrave shrugged and glanced at his watch. "It isn't certain," he said. "Gil was supposed to give Greg Jennings a call at Tahoe this afternoon about revising the contract, but at the moment he's upstairs fucking that cocktail girl. I guess we'll just have to wait until he's finished taking his pleasure with that little tramp."
"I wonder what they're doing right now," Sherry said, trying to visualize them. "Don't you wish you could see whether they're fucking or sucking right this minute?"
Victor grimaced, shaking his head. "Gil isn't exactly a Don Juan. They probably consummated the act two minutes after they entered his room. Either that or he's having difficulty trying to get his drunken pecker up without success?"
Sherry giggled. "Or maybe he's making one of his phony promises about hiring her as his traveling secretary."
"Yes, anything's possible with Gil," Victor said. "Well, shall we go up and take our nap now? With us at least we know our sex is first-rated. Somehow that makes me feel good. I detest mediocrity even in bed."
"Me too," Sherry said. "Ummmm. Let's go, Daddy." Somehow lying in the sun always made her readier for sex than usual, primed her, so to speak. She stole a glance at the manly bulge at the crotch of her father's tight-fitting, blue trunks and wet her lips in anticipation. She would have another delicious orgasm with Daddy and then sleep like a baby until time for supper and work tonight.
Upstairs, once the door was closed behind them, Victor held his daughter close and ran his hands over her sun-warm body. He unclasped her skimpy top and palmed her hot breasts, too, in slow circular movements. Finally, he hooked his thumbs in the top of the bottom of her swim suit and slid it down to her ankles. He started to kneel down on the floor but before he could do so Sherry slid his trunks down to the carpet also. "I like you naked just like me, Daddy," she said. "Oh, the thought of all those males with their beautiful clusters of cocks and balls hidden by bathing suits at the pool was driving me out of my mind. I wish everybody could just run around naked, their pricks and nuts and tits swinging free in the breeze. Beautiful."
Suddenly Victor slapped his daughter hard across the face. "There's only one set of cock and balls you're interested in and don't you ever forget it!" he rasped. "The way you were luring those gaping teenage idiots on was despicable! Cocks and balls… cocks and balls… you mean mine and nobody else's, do you understand?"
Sherry began to cry, stunned and holding her cheek where he had slapped her. The tears rolled down her rosy, rounded cheeks and spilled onto her nipples. "I-I'm sorry, Daddy," she gasped. "I didn't mean anything by what I said. You know I just want you, darling. Just you and your cock. Nobody else's, ever."
"Then behave like a Redgrave. You're going to be a star. Don't behave like that cocktail waitress tramp, Connie. Do you hear?"
Sherry cradled her head in her Daddy's shoulder, still sobbing. "I'm sorry, Daddy. Please forgive me?"
Sherry knew precisely what her father was doing. He frequently found excuses to punish her this way, to bring her to tears. He sought variety in their sexual relationship, and often in order to achieve it he resorted to strange devices. Long ago they had both learned that a crying scene before fucking changed the nature of their sexual encounter altogether. Slapping her was one of his favorite gambits. Then he could dominate her and use her and she could play the role of the naughty daughter trying to win back the approval of her stern, demanding father. She continued to hug Daddy and slowly sank to her knees before him, kissing as she descended. "Oh, Daddy," she begged, "please don't be angry with your little girl. I love you so much. I'd do anything for you. I never want to make you angry again. Never." She showered his body with forgiving, wet kisses now and hugged his buttocks as she took his already stiff prick in her hands and kissed it. Then, still crying, she kissed his balls and continued to beg for forgiveness. "Oh what can I ever do to make you love me again?" she asked.