Derek Foster studied his reflection in the mirror, deciding ultimately, as he always did, that he was pleased with what he saw. His body was trim and muscular, full of youthful energy and enthusiasm, as was befitting the type of build that Mount Shangri-la Lodge's ski instructor should have. Besides being just tall and handsome, he decided that he liked the way his wide, flaring shoulders made the velvety material of his soft, dark-colored shirt strain across his rippling muscles. Carefully cultivated and professionally styled, his thick black hair was worn fashionably long; not so long, however, as to make him look effeminate, but long enough to give him the kind of rugged individualism that women found so attractive. Threads of pure white licked like bleached flames through the dark waves at- each temple and up and down the length of his long sideburns, giving him just the right balance of youthfulness and maturity. Although the silver had come from a bottle, and it tended to make him appear older than his thirty-six years, Derek Foster was pleased with the result.
It made him look distinguished, he felt, and, in his line of work, that was a decided advantage. More than that, it made him appear sexy, especially the way his hair looked against the deep, year-round tan on his tightly-drawn face. Burning like smoldering embers, his twin brown eyes stared down his narrow, perfectly shaped nose, and, in the reflection, he watched his lips part and reveal a dazzling bright smile.
All that's missing are the sunglasses, he thought. Then the image would be complete. Christ, I've got it made. Too much.
Not quite satisfied, Derek picked up his hairbrush from the dresser top, and he stroked it through his hair once or twice more until he had obtained the desired effect. Quickly then, he picked up an aerosol can of clear, odorless lacquer, and he sprayed it back and forth across the top of his head, not enough to make it stiff or sticky, but enough to make it hold. Nodding with approval, he returned the hairspray to the dresser, placing it next to the hairbrush.
Poor bitch, he thought. How could she possibly resist me? He judged his handsome features from several different angles in the mirror. No way. How could any of them resist?
In the five years he had been at Shangri-la as its ski instructor, Derek Foster had gotten the uncertain art of seduction down almost to a science. He knew exactly what to do and say, and whom to say it to in order to get the best possible responses. A limitless supply that was constantly fed by the ceaseless turnover in his classes, he literally was never without some woman who was deeply interested in the special, private classes he conducted on a subject that had nothing at all to do with skiing. Often there was more than one such agreeable woman, and frequently there were so many that Derek had to make some very hard, difficult choices in deciding upon whom he was going to bestow his peculiar charm and very special talent. Naturally, he chose the best: the prettiest, the most intelligent, the woman with the best.body, and, if possible, the woman with the most money. For some strange reason he had never taken the time to understand, Derek had found over the years, that the best-looking women were very often the most wealthy. And the horniest.
Horniness, of course, was a pail of the resort atmosphere, and was true of almost all of the women with whom he came in. contact at Shangri-la. There was something about going away on a vacation that turned women on sexually. Being away from home somehow turned them all into romantics, until one could almost measure their arousal in proportion to the' distance from home: the farther away they were, the less inhibited, the more promiscuous they became. Everything they saw or did took on an erotic coloration, exciting,them sexually. Even making love to their husbands became a new and stimulating experience. Women who rarely had a promiscuous thought or idea in their everyday home life, enrolled in his classes, and began to drool all over him, making barely veiled, suggestive hints. He could almost see their nipples getting stiff every time they looked at his crotch, and he knew without a doubt that their panties were already sopping wet. They were fantasizing about him, and there was no question about it: wondering how it would feel to have his cock inside of them, wondering what it would be like to wrap their lips around his throbbing erection, wanting to know again, perhaps for the last time in their lives, what it would be like to be made love to by a real man.
Christ, he. almost had to beat them away with a stick. He got grabbed and propositioned more times in one season than most women ever did in the course of their lives.
And then, of course, there was always the money angle. Most of them had money, and some of them had a great deal of money. He was always getting gifts and presents, tokens of their esteem and appreciation, and some of them were not small: jewelry, a new wardrobe, a car once, and an occasional paid vacation with one whenever it could be arranged. A few had even offered to "keep" him, to pay him a weekly salary and to put him up in an apartment and buy him things, much as their rich businessmen husband were already doing with their own sexual diversions. As tempting as the offers had been, Derek had turned them down, deciding that his best possible course of action would be to remain at Shangri-la, slamming the cream off the top, until something better came along. And it would, sooner or later. One day the right women would come to the resort, and then he'd have it made. Only with her he wasn't going to be a helpless tool. When he found the right one, he was going to marry her, for her money, and then he would be taken care of for the rest of his life. All he had to do was be patient. In the meanwhile, he had more than enough to keep his life interesting. Like Lee Davis, for instance.
Satisfied finally with his reflection, Derek slipped on his yellow tinged sunglasses, disregarding the fact that it was almost ten o'clock in the evening, and he made a few last moment adjustments of his clothing. He picked up his room key from the dresser top, checked himself one last time, then turned finally from the mirror.
His room was austerely functional, as were all the rooms set aside for the employees of Mount Shangri-la. Luxury was reserved for the guests. A double bed set against the far wall, a dresser with mirror, a television, two chairs and a table. Noticeably missing was the red shag rug. The floors were bare wood, with a round throw rug he'd purchased himself to the right of his bed for those cold winter mornings when the floor was like a sheet of ice. The room's standard picture window was covered with a heavy draw curtain that had come to him from the guest rooms the last time the management had redecorated the rooms. The curtain didn't match in color or design the rest of the room, but Derek didn't mind. He used the room for only fucking and sleeping, and anyone who came into the room with him wasn't about to be interested in a lack of decorative harmony. The only time, in fact, he ever brought anyone into the room was when she (it was always a she) couldn't arrange to smuggle Derek into her room. The curtains were the last thing either of them were concerned with.
Since he didn't have to pay the electric bill, he left the lights burning in his room out of petty spite. Like all hotel and motel rooms, Derek's room was illuminated by a series of lamps, one on the two nightstands on either side of his bed, one on the dresser to the left of the mirror, and a hanging swag lamp over his table, each one equipped with a-bulb of the smallest possible wattage. He's never gotten used to living in semi-darkness, and it bothered him. This was one of his ways of getting even.
His room was at the far end of the resort, as far away from the guests as possible, probably to keep them from becoming contaminated. He walked with patient slowness through the summer night, just as he'd walked this very same path countless times before. Only the destinations had been different. A different woman for all those different nights. Tonight it was Lee Davis, a blonde haired woman in her middle-to-late thirties who had attended one of his skiing classes. Now she was about to become his latest conquest: the newest notch on his belt.
The night was dark and there was a slow, lazy summer breeze pulsing against his face. He could hear the grinding strains of music from the Recreation Hall where the weekend dance was still growing strong. Light exploded from the glass facade of the main building where he could see clusters of men and women talking and laughing. As he crossed the road, walking toward the building that housed the more luxurious, expensive rooms, a single car passed him and he had to wait to get by. There was a boy and a girl in the car, neither one could have been older than twenty-one or -two, and they both had white-blonde hair and a deep, well-nurtured tan. They were laughing as they drove away.
Lee's room was on the third floor of the building, and he strode briskly up the stairs, avoiding the elevator. The hallway was carpeted with the traditional wall-to-wall red shag rug, and it muffled the sound of his feet as he searched carefully for her room number. He found it finally, at the end of the hall, and a flutter of uncertainty touched the pit of his stomach. This was the dangerous part. Anything could go wrong. Her husband might still be in there with her, or she might have gotten cold feet, and decide now that she doesn't want to go through with it. It's happened before. It was a risk, he knew, and if found out, he'd be out on his ass. A thousand times he'd asked himself if it was worth the risk. He always got back the same answer: no, but what the hell. Is anything ever really worth the risk?
He knocked on the door.
What should I say, he asked himself, if her husband is in there with her? What excuse could I give him for my being there?
From somewhere beyond the wall of the door, he heard the sound of movement. He tried to read it, to determine who it was and if it meant anything, but he couldn't. He never could. It was only a sound.
"Who is it?" Lee's uncertain voice asked.
He said: "Me."
The door parted a fraction of an inch, and a knifelike ribbon of light sliced into the night: At the center of it he could see Lee Davis. Her long blonde hair was spilled like loose wheat across her shoulder. She was wearing a gauzy blue thing through which he could see her nipples: She was smiling tensely, showing him her teeth.
"Is it safe?" Derek asked.
She pulled the door further open. "Of course. Come in." He slipped in, and she closed the door behind him, locking it with a nervous twist of her wrist.
His eyes took in the room in a quick, functional sweep. The king sized bed had its bed covers thrown back, with the white triangle of the sheets on both sides clearly displayed, almost as if in invitation. The lamps were either dim or off, giving the room a shadowy seductiveness. The back end of the long rectangular room was dark near the bathroom and closet area, but not so dark for him to see that the room was empty of any angry, vengeful husband. The radio was on low, and there was a slow-sounding syrupy music dripping into the perfumed-ladened air.
He turned and looked back at her. She was coming toward him, her face wooden in either passion or tension. She had a tall sweaty glass in her hand, and the amber-colored fluid sloshed as she moved. The blue thing she had on was a floor-length nightgown, the top half of which was completely transparent. Two halter like strips came down around her slender pale neck in a widening vee that bulged over her slightly sagging breasts. They jiggled as she walked, her brown-tipped nipples stiffening against the gentle friction. Her blonde hair was worn down, parted in the middle, with long loose flowing strands gathered like clusters along the sloping lengths of her shoulders. Her red-painted lips were open and her tongue was sliding sensually across them as if she were eating herself. Blue eyes that matched the color of her dress were open wide and full of unmistakable hunger.
"I was worried," she said.
"It's better to be safe," he said indifferently. "I wanted to make sure."
"You should have called."
He ignored her admonishion. "Where is hen Derek asked. He was her husband, Arthur Simpson Davies, a fat, balding man in his middle fifties who probably fucked her once a month if she was lucky. He owned a jewelry store in midtown Manhattan, and openly bragged that he had made a million and a half dollars the year before. All the he's in the world made Derek's conscience breathe a lot easier. Husbands like Arthur Simpson Davies almost begged other men to fuck their wives.
"He's out."
"Where?"
"At the nightclub." She pressed herself against him, rubbing her cunt against his thigh. She wrapped her arms around his neck until he could smell her alcoholic breath as it intermixed with her expensive per. fume. "He's with friends-Business partners."
"How long will he be out?"
Lee pecked a kiss upon his brown mouth. "A couple of hours, at least Probably more."
"What if he comes back before?" Derek could feel his cock stiffening as she trapped his thigh between her legs. Her cunt felt wet even through the fabric of her nightgown and his slacks. It made a dull, squishing noise as the lips opened and closed from being rubbed back and forth.
"He won't "
"What if he does?"
"I made him promise to call me before he comes home. In case I want him to bring me back anything."
"What if he doesn't call?"
"Arthur? Don't make me laugh. Arthur would never forget that He's a very conscientious husband" The bitterness made her lips curl.
Satisfied, Derek relaxed for a moment. He permitted himself to smile, flashing his dazzling commercial smile in her face. Her hips were soft and breathing warmth as his hands slid over them, clasping together at the base of her spine. He leaned forward and kissed her mouth. He rolled his lips in a shallow gentle circle, and when he felt the excited intrusion of her tongue, he pulled back, flashing his dazzling commercial smile again.
"Lee, baby," he whispered, his voice husky with pretended passion. "What did you tell him? How'd you do it?"
She giggled like a schoolgirl. "I told him I had a headache."
"Jesus."
"Kiss me again, baby. I'm wet for you."
Derek kissed her again, and this time, when he felt the gentle prodding of her tongue tip, he opened his mouth and sucked her between his lips. Her tongue was alive and hot in the moist cavern of his mouth. He sucked upon it, draining it of its warm alcoholic sweetness, feeling the stiffening throbs in his groin every time she flit it against the sensitive wetness of his inner cheeks. He remained passive a moment more, and then suddenly, awakened his own tongue, and lashed it against hers, dueling her momentarily for the possession of his mouth. He kissed her hard and deeply, pushing her tongue back into her own body, then followed it with his own darting stabs,: exploring intimately the secret pockets of saliva, the soft sensual curves of her lips, the hard, chewing bites of her teeth. She began to respond, breathing hotly into his mouth, crushing her eager body hard against his, pumping her cunt up and down over the lump of his cock.
"Oh, Christ," she moaned, her eyes closed, clusters of passion like smears of redness on her cheeks. Her lips were trembling, and he could feel the stiffness of her nipples sticking into him through their clothing. "Put it in me. Fuck me with it!"
She was eager, and that pleased Derek. He enjoyed it when they were passionate for him. She was hot for cock, any man's cock, because her husband had probably never satisfied her. Wetness was probably dripping down her thighs. Derek decided to play with her.
"What do you want?" he asked.
Lee groaned softly. "You, baby. You."
"Tell me the words."
"I want you. I want -"
"Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want me to stick my cock in your cunt? Do you want me to fuck you and fuck you until you come? Until I come all over you, inside of you?"
"Yell" she gasped, nearly coming from the sound of the words. "God – yes!"
"Then tell me. Say the words."
Her eyes opened, red with passion, out of focus with her excitement. She stepped back, away from him, her hands sliding up her body until she was cupping her breasts. She slipped her fingers into her halter, squeezing her breasts with a massaging in and out movement,.catching her nipples between her fingers. The nipples became stiffer and harder, growing long and brown against her palm.
"Fuck me, Derek," she begged, the words spilling loosely from her moist red lips. "Fuck me, fuck me!" Put your cock in me – in my pussy, in my cunt! Stick it all the way up my hole and fuck, me until I come all over your cock. Fuck my box until your hot sperm pumps into my wet, wet pussy! Christ, I'm hot!"
Derek smiled. "Sit on the bed. Go on. Good. Just sit there. I want you to watch something."
When she was settled on the mattress, Derek began to undress. He undressed slowly, teasingly, revealing his body to her much the same way a stripper reveals her body to an audience of eager men. He slipped his jacket off and folded it neatly over the back of a chair. He was wearing a sweater that zippered to the middle of his chest, and he opened it all the way, showing her the naked tanned muscles underneath. Dark curling hairs inter tangled with the silver teeth of the zipper. The buttons on the sleeves opened easily, and in a single fluid motion, he pulled the sweater over his head, hardly disarranging his hair at all.
Lee gasped at his semi-nudity. "My God…"
"Don't touch yourself," he cautioned, smiling wickedly at her as her hand crept down, from her breasts and slid up between her parted thighs. "I want you wet and hot for me. I want your body aching to be touched"
"Christ, hurry. I'm getting-the bed wet I'm so god-dam hot!"
He laughed softly, then bent over and slipped his shoes off, then his long black socks. He straightened and dropped his hands to his sides, pulling on the material of his pants to exhibit the prodding stiffness of his erection. When her eyes had widened in sufficient anticipation, he touched his belt and then opened it. Another quick movement parted his zipper, and he stepped out of his dark trousers.
"Can you see my cock?" he asked, ostensibly paying attention to folding his pants and placing them with his coat, over the back of one of the chairs. He was wearing kelly green bikini briefs that cut low across his flat, tanned belly, revealing the dark cluster of his pubic hair: The crotch piece of the shorts pulled way from his body, and the head of his cock seemed to be throbbing through the tautly-stretched material. "Can you see my cock, Lee?"
"God, no, not yet. Hurry, please. Hurry!"
Derek put his hands up to the waistband of his briefs, tucking his thumbs into the fold, one on either side of his hips. He dipped the material down, once, then twice, revealing more of the dark tangled hair. Lee was amazed to see that the darkness of his tan did not end as far down as she could see which could mean only one thing: that Derek had sunbathed frequently in the nude. The idea excited and stimulated her almost as much as the reality of what was happening in front of her eyes. Her thoughts were filled with wild sexual fantasies and the promise of his hard, naked body.
The third time he pulled on the shorts, his cock popped out. It slithered upward slowly, disengaging itself from the restricting folds of material. It. was thick and long, and its circumcised head was swollen with passion. His cock stood straight up, pressed against-his belly, held in place by the elastic of his pants, pulsing and throbbing, a bubble of lubrication seeping from the slitted opening on its tip.
"My God, it's – magnificent!" Lee mumbled, her eyes wide and staring. Involuntarily, her hand moved out toward it, her fingers curling and trembling to caress it. "It's so… big. So hard."
Her reaction, although hardly novel, pleased Derek. This was his moment, just as when he finally got around to fucking Lee, and making her come, would be her moment. His pleasure came not from satisfying women, or even being a good lover. What he enjoyed most was to be desired by women; wanted by them. He liked to see them squirm for the hardness of his body. It made him feel proud and masculine.
"Do you like my cock?" he asked, moving it for her so that it twitched against his belly. "Does it please you? Does it make you – hot?"
"Oh, Christ – yes!" she moaned. "Can I… May I touch it?"
Closing his eyes, savoring the moment, he said softly: "Of course. Enjoy yourself."
The movement of Lee's hand was swift and sensual. She wrapped her fingers around the swollen shaft of his cock, pulling down his briefs so that it stood straight out, away from his body. His balls were heavy and full, dangling obscenely between his parted thighs. Dark, heavy hair covered his belly from his thighs up to his navel. His cock was magnificent: as thick as her wrist, and at least seven or eight inches long. She stroked it lovingly, pulling her fingers up and down the thick shaft, from the hairy base of his groin to the throbbing knob of his cock head.
Derek stepped back, pulling himself from her grasping fingers. "Now you. Take your nightgown off and lay back on the bed I want to look at you now. I want you naked."
Lee moaned excitedly and complied with a swiftness that was a direct measure of his excitement. She pulled the blue shimmering nightgown over her head and discarded it onto the floor, parting her thighs and standing naked for her lover. Her body was good, even though it had begun to sag with age. Her breasts were firm and high, their nipples stiff and brown, twitching spasmodically. Her belly bulged with middle years, and the beginning of fattiness folded over on her sides where her hips flared widely out. Her thighs were shapely and well-formed, and the blonde sweaty tangle of hair between them was matted down and pressed back against her soft pink flesh. The lips were parted from her excitement, and the ruby bud of her clitoris was winking between the folds of flesh.
"Lay back on the bed," Derek instructed, stepping out of his shorts, stroking his cock absentmindedly. "And spread your thighs. I'm going to eat your pussy."
"Oh Jesus!" Lee sobbed, jumping onto the bed and spreading her thighs. The lips of her cunt were wet, and they pulled slowly open, making a sticky, wet sound. The underside of her crotch was oozing wetness, and the inner flesh between her lips was almost crimson in color. Her cunthole reminded him of a mouth, opening and closing fitfully, squishing wetness at him. She said: "Hurry, please. Hurry!"
Derek climbed onto the king-sized mattress, positioning himself between her thighs. As he leaned forward, sliding onto his belly, slipping her hands under the cheeks of her ass as 'he pulled her toward his open, waiting mouth, the tip of his cock rubbed against the cool erotic softness of the bed sheet, sending a throb of excitement up and down his spine. He settled himself on the bed, nodding toward her cunt, and he began to eat her pussy.
"God!" Lee moaned, her body stiffening with pleasure. She arched her hips, and as she threw her head back in total abandonment, she began to pump her cunt up and down against Derek's face. "Eat me, baby… eat me!"
Derek's tongue slithered sensually up and dawn the slick avenue between her cuntlips. Her body was hot and wet, and she was oozing juices into his mouth. He licked her slowly from the puckered ring of her anus to the tip of her throbbing clitoris, pausing more than briefly to lap up the drool which was leaking from her dilating cunthole. He pushed his tongue deep into the creaming tightness of her passageway, and he felt her muscles convulse around the slippery intrusion. She was incredibly hot inside, and Derek took particular pleasure in flitting his tongue from side to side, stinging the wet walls of her canal with the rapid thrusts of his licking caresses. When she began to grind her hips in a tight rolling circle, and she began to moan, grabbing at her head with her hands to pull him closer to her body, he slipped- his tongue from her cunthole, and he began to stroke her clitoris. He battered the tender bud savagely with a rapid back and forth movement, until her clitoris was vibrating under his lapping tongue, and Lee's back was arched away from the mattress, her wet, oozing underside glued to Derek's face.
"I'm coming!" she cried, grabbing his head finally, pulling him hard against her quivering quiet. She pumped her hips and gyrated her thighs, screwing her coming cunt all over his face. "Oh, God! Oh God!… I'm coming… I'm coming!"… I'm coming!"
He stroked her mercilessly through her orgasm, feeling the quivering flesh trembling under his tongue. He could taste her come in his mouth, the sudden warm wetness and he dug his tongue into it, flicking it back into his mouth, drinking it down. He parted the dank, hairy folds of her pussy, sinking his teeth into the button of her clitoris, grinding his mouth sensually from side to side, allowing pain to mingle in with her pleasure.
"Oh God… Oh God!" she cried, tears of release stream from her eyes. "Fabulous!… Fabulous!… I -"
He pulled his mouth away and straightened. She sobbed and tried to return his face to her upturned pussy, but he was past that now. Taking his stiff cock in his hand, he guided it at her wet, open pussy, inserting the swollen tip of his shaft between her cuntlips. He watched his cock entering her body, pushing it slowly, carefully in, until his belly of black hair was pressed directly against her belly of white blonde hair, and the entire length of his cock was buried inside of her. He began to push his cock in and out, fucking her.
"Oh-Oohhh!" Lee cried, gasping in pleasure at the intensity of sensation. She humped her pussy up and down the drilling cock, the wet walls of her pussy clutching at his hardness. "Again… again! I'm coming again!"
He could feel her coming this second time. Her cunt tightened down around him, and he could feel her wetness oozing all over him. He pushed his cock slowly, deeply in and out, stroking her with his full hard length. Her body became very hot, and he could feel her wetness gushing against his driving middle. He watched his cock sliding in and out of her, the lips of her pussy clinging to the sides of his shaft, going in dry and coming out wet and glistening with the discharge of her orgasm. He pumped her until he could feel her pleasure peaking, until she began to respond once again to the in-and-out thrusting of his cock.
"Turn over," he commanded, disengaging himself. His cock was slick with her cuntal wetness, and he stroked himself up and down, the shaft squishing through his fingers. "Come on, turn over. It's my turn now."
Lee, gasped, the pleasure of her second orgasm numbing her flesh. "What are you… What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to fuck you," Derek said, stroking her wet flanks affectionately. "I'm going to fuck you like a bitch. From the rear."
"But I've never -"
"Turn over!"
Lee obeyed. She turned over, moving slowly, assuming the proper position. Her head was bent low, on a decline, and her ass was high, its cheeks widely spread. Derek could see the sopping wetness between her thighs, and he played with it while he positioned himself between them. Placing his hands on the inside of her thighs, he spread Lee even further open. Taking his cock, he shoved it at the center of her cunt, and, as he looked down, over the pink cheeks of her ass, he watched himself enter her cunt for the second time.
"Oh, God – it's fantastic!" she groaned, pressing herself back against his driving penetration. His cock went up, all the way up her cunt, and his balls dangled between her thighs. "Fuck me hard. Hard!"
The passageway of her cunt was tighter from this position, and Derek knew he would have no difficulty in coming. He gripped her hips with both hands, and he rippled his hips, driving his cock in and out as he pulled and pushed her back and forth. Lee's muscles gripping him tightly, grinding the entire length of his shaft in the warm, wet prison of her oozing pussy. His hunches became deeper and stronger as the pleasure of fucking washed across his drilling middle: The weight of his pressing body forced her forward, until he was laying on top of her, and Lee was flat on her belly under him. His cock was bent at an angle, increasing his pleasure. The cheeks of her ass were a soft cushion for his belly as he drove his cock in and out; screwing himself in and out of her liquefied cunt. The tempo of his thrusts accelerated and became more frantic until he grunted suddenly, and stiffened as he drove himself in one last hunch.
"Take it!" he cried, his cock opening up and spilling out a fiery spurt of come. "Take it, bitch – take it! I'm coming!"
His cock pumped and throbbed inside of her as gush after gush of sperm spewed into her tight box. He could feel it splashing against the roof of her cunt, then, like a wave, wash back against his pulsing cockshaft, bathing him in his own orgasm. After the initial spurt he resumed his thrusting, grinding his pelvis into the softness of her sticky hole. The moment he did so, and Lee felt the burning kiss. of his come, she pushed back against him, and began to come a third and last time.
They lay like that afterwards, his cock buried in the puddle of her cunt, her arms splayed brokenly out, her ass and back supporting the entire weight of his body. A warm, pleasant feeling rolled softly inside of her. The sperm dripped from her cunthole and leaked all over the bed
"We're leaving in the morning," Lee finally said.
"That's too bad," Derek said, his deflated cock staring once again inside of her. Furtively he looked at his wristwatch. "I was hoping to see you at least once more. I wanted more than this."
Lee sighed softly. "What do you mean?"
"I care about you, Lee," he said, telling her the easy lie. "Right from the first moment I saw you I knew it had to be more than just a physical thing between us." He breathed softly, moving inside of her. "You feel the same way about me, don't you?"
"Yes, but – I never thought that you -"
He stopped her. "Well, you thought wrong. I can get sex anytime I want; it's an instant commodity here. You can literally order it from Room Service. But you mean more to me than that, Lee. A lot more." He rubbed her sweaty ass cheek with his hand, kneading her soft warm flesh with his fingers. "Christ, I don't know why I'm telling you this, leaving myself so open…"
"Don't be sorry, Derek. I'm glad you did say something." She softened under him, snuggling back against his nakedness, bending her knees to keep his flaccid cock well inside of her cunt. "At least now I know you feel the same way about me as I feel about you. You're the first man, Derek, the first man other than my husband with whom I've made love:
"I want to see you again," he told her.
"God, I wish we could."
"I'm not going to take no for an answer, Lee. I'm going to fight to keep you, husband or not."
"All right, then, I'll write to you," she said, her voice purring with romanticism. "We'll work it out somehow; we'll make some kind of arrangement."
"Lee, I think I love you," he said. He kissed her shoulder, telling her the words she wanted to hear.
Lee cried softly in his arms, and he stroked her hair. All the while he told her how much he loved her, Derek Foster was wondering how it would be to eat her cunt after he had come in it. He looked at his watch once more. Perhaps if he hurried he might have time enough to find out.