Manuel had Renee and Fran change positions. Renee's heart thudded wildly as the two tied her down, her back slithering in the pool of sweat left by Fran's body. Her butt hung over the end of the table and her legs quivered with the effort of reaching the ground and taking some of the weight off her back muscles, already aching from the strain.
Combined with the anticipation of what was to come, the feeling was delicious. Renee hated herself for it, but how could she deny it? Watching Fran get fucked, eating her sloppy cunt had roused her to such a high pitch of excitement she would have fought the blonde girl for the privilege of being next.
The strain across her lower belly was excruciating. Every muscle in her crotch was pulled taut. Just breathing disturbed them enough to titillate her.
God! What was Manuel waiting for? She couldn't wait to feel his prick digging into that tight hole, tearing her apart.
She knew she was going to scream with pleasure. Now that he was half drained, he'd take longer. He'd pound her until she was whimpering with exhaustion, and she wanted it! Lying on that table, feeling the rough ropes that held her wrists, she knew that she wanted it that way!
For a long moment she stared at a crack that ran the length of the ceiling and realized what was happening to her. She hated Manuel. And yet her body cried for him, literally. Already her pussy was weeping its stream of liquid.
Manuel stepped up to the end of the table and stroked her trembling thighs. Each touch of his hand was an electric shock that made her twitch.
Eagerly she spread her legs, inviting him.
Hurry, she thought. Hurry.
Manuel was moving toward her spread crotch. She could see him between the warm, dark mounds of her breasts. Hesitantly she licked her suddenly dry lips with her tongue. Already, her hips were slithering her ass around, working her cunt lips in soundless words.
He was placing his prick against her. She felt the steady pressure on her twat and her hips started jerking faster, rubbing against it with more and more friction until she thought if it wouldn't go in she would go crazy.
There was a knock at the door. A firm knock.
Manuel stepped away from Renee and looked at the door in irritation. He opened it a crack and said, "Como?"
Through the narrow crack, Renee saw the outline of a woman's hair, a bleached blonde, and heard her whispered conversation, but couldn't make out the words.
Manuel shut the door and hastily put on his clothes. Not saying a word, he stepped outside and slammed the door behind him, leaving Renee and Fran alone in the room.
Renee stared at the ceiling again. She wanted to scream. She was going to scream.
Manuel Ramos followed Esperanza to the top of the stairs where they could stand behind a blanket hung there to keep the upstairs light out.
His eyes followed where her finger was pointing and he stiffened. The American, wearing a sport coat and slacks this time instead of a suit, was the same one who had been with Fran and Renee the night he "acquired" them. "Send Jose up," he hissed.
Hurriedly the girl scurried down the stairs and out the front where the doorman kept watch.
The American worried Manuel. He walked around and seemed to be talking with everyone. He was behaving all right. And yet, Esperanza said he had been looking specifically for him for a reason he wouldn't tell to her. Manuel frowned. This was no time for complications like a nosy Americano prying around. A week more and he would be rid of the two women, anyway. They would be too hot to keep this close to the border. Besides, the market in Uruguay already agreed to take them.
Sometimes, Manuel thought, his contacts in South America were in good with the Communists because they always paid him with heroin. Not that he was complaining. It was always good H. He never had any trouble selling heroin. It was just that heroin did not come from South America in the quantity and quality that he knew was passing through there. More likely it came from China.
Jose burst through the blanket and stood waiting for Manuel to tell him what to do. He was built square, like a chimney. Even his broad, Mexican peon face was angular with flat slabs of bone for his cheeks and a heavy ridge over his eyes.
Pointing the American out, Manuel whispered to Jose and explained what he was to do, along with Antonio. Jose nodded slowly, memorizing every word of Manuel's instructions. Then he slipped quietly down the stairs, for such a big man.
Flitting around the room, Jose gave every girl her orders. They began getting demanding with the American who was slowly working his way toward the stairs. He had his foot on the bottom step when Jose materialized in front of him and slowly shook his head.
The American tried to argue with Jose. But before he got anywhere, the big Mexican had him by the collar and was hustling him out of the building.
Manuel sighed and turned back to the corridor. Jose had his orders. He wouldn't be bothered by the Americano any more.