Daddy's plaything(17)

Connie worked on and on, swallowing as she sucked, laying, cleansing, emitting appreciative sounds while Gil bucked and spasmed, nearly leaping from the bed.

At last, he began shuddering in a way that told be was approaching the finish. Good, she thought. The flavor of the mint was still strong on his eager wanger and she would have the pleasure of drinking a flavored load from her new lover. Her mouth gulped greedier in anticipation, waiting for the explosion of his balls and the stream of sperm that would spew from his prick. There, she thought. There, it's coming!

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.