Resurrecting Jack (part 2)
“He said he would only meet with me, but I figure that with your abilities that wouldn’t pose a problem,” Karick said as the trio stood on the curb, the taxi having just deposited them in one of Paris’s seedier neighborhoods. They had set out from the hotel not long after first light, after checking in and leaving their bags in the rooms.
“No, that wont be a problem,” Alan agreed.
Karick rang the bell and led them in after their host buzzed them door open. Alan immediately took charge, calming the man’s fears.
“I don’t like it,” he said quietly to Karick, who assured him Alan and Neil would be discrete. When the former Czech intelligence agent started to introduce his colleagues to the grubby document expert he was cut off. “Call me...Viktor,” obviously making up a name on the spot.
“Alright, Viktor,” Alan said, extending his hand out, but it was not taken.
“You have the document?”
Alan nodded, and handed it over, and the three of them followed Viktor into his work room. Viktor held it up to the light, looked at the wordless parchment wordlessly for a few seconds, and then clamped it down on a lightboard. A magnifying glass, attached to the side of the lightboard by a swinging arm, was moved into place, and Viktor took station over it. Without moving his head from the glass he reached to a side drawer and pulled out a tool that looked like a needle on a mount, and then scraped some of the parchment away at the corner. The next table over had a small-model gas chromatographer and he prepped the sample for analysis.
“What do you think?” Karick asked.
“I’ll know on a few moments, but my best guess is that it is vellum. Sheepskin, probably about mid-fifteenth to sixteenth century. From the way it’s been cured and treated I would guess Central Asian origin, Uzbek or Tadjik, a very small chance Armenian. Quite possibly...” he drifted off, but his eyes lit up at the last thought.
“Is there a hidden message?”
“What?” Viktor asked. “You’re looking for a message? You should have said that at the outset,” he grumbled as he opened some cabinets looking for something. He came back with a spray bottle and without asking permission saturated both sides of the parchment.
“Hey! What the fuck are you doing?” Alan yelled.
“Nothing to fear, nothing to fear, boy. Just watch. The solution is almost completely inert.” Viktor flipped a switch and the room’s light all went off, including the lightboard, and a black light flickered on from both the ceiling and from within the belly of the board. In the dim glow of the room Alan could see him beckoning for him to come closer to the parchment.
“I can state with authority, and you can ask your friend Tadeusz what kind of authority I am, that this paper is blank. You see how clean it is. No pen marks of any kind, no print marks of any kind. No kind of writing or printing instruments have impacted on the paper. A virgin, you get it? Virgin!” he laughed, a rheumy cackle.
The gas chromatographer beeped and Viktor sat down at a p.c. which was attached to it by a cable. The results meant nothing to Alan, and he watched with interest as Viktor loaded a CD into the drive and ran a comparison program. “This will take some time,” they were informed by their host.
Alan and Neil went looking for a café, while Karick stayed behind to keep an eye on things.
“So, Karick, you’ve come up in the world, I see,” “Viktor” said once the others had left.
“The Cold War is over, my old friend. I have to make a living somehow. To tell the truth, I consider myself lucky. It is a good job. No wet work.”
“You never did like killing.”
“No, but I did it, unhappily. And you? Now you forge passports and identity papers for the highest bidders, not for love of Lenin and Marx. More rewarding for you too, no?”
“Victor” sighed. “The more things change...most of my, ah, clientele, are Russians, fucking Russians. Mafiya scum, and kleptocrats calling themselves without a hint of irony ‘New Capitalists,’” he grumbled. “The pay is better, but the more things change...” he added with a laugh.
They chatted of trivial things while the computer searched the database looking for a match to the sample; the computer was fairly ancient, and taking its time. When the match had been found Karick keyed his cell phone and called Alan and Neil back from their coffees.
“Samarkand,” Viktor pronounced triumphantly. “From the workshop of the Master, I would guess early 1500s.”
“The Master?” Alan asked.
It was Neil, to the surprise of the other three who answered. “The Master of Samarkand, a dyer, name unknown, who worked from about 1480 to 1515. His product was of exceptional quality.” Neil pointed to the parchment laying on the lightbox. “This is the Stradivarius of paper, parchment, whatever,” he said correcting himself. “If the provenance can be proven,” he ventured, getting a small snarl from Viktor in response (so unused he was to having his expertise questioned), that is one valuable piece of parchment.”
“Valuable, yes,” Alan thought, “But that doesn’t quite help us along in our quest however much it’s worth.”
“The bleaching process used by him,” Viktor began, taking up Neil’s point (and a bit perturbed at being upstaged and doubted), “Is quite distinct, decades, no centuries ahead of his time. From the finish on the document I should have pegged it off right away, but I’ve never seen an unused piece of his product.”
Later, back at the hotel Alan asked him if that was the clue. “Do we need to go? To Samarkand? I’m willing, but that corner of the world is not exactly considered safe.” Uzbekistan borders Afghanistan.
“No, Alan, there’s nothing left there. The Soviets pretty much plundered the country back in the day, and the best experts about the Master are all in Russia now. I know one, he lived in Moscow. He consulted with the museum back when I worked there. Should I call him? Try to see if he’s still around? He’ll be terribly excited seeing an unused parchment.”
“No hold off on that. Karick’s team had been watching Massimo since before I even acquired my powers. So we know that Massimo was never even near Central Asia for a long time. Damn it! Somehow there’s a message on that parchment, and I just don’t know how to get at it. What’s worse, the dreams are back, and more frequent, more powerful. It’s like being here, on this side of the Atlantic, I’m closer to the solution, and Jack is trying to guide me more. This whole fucking thing makes no sense.”
“Whoa, whoa, step back a minute. You getting frustrated will not help you get over this thing.”
“You’re right,” Alan exhaled.
“Let’s look at this thing from a logical point of view, OK?”
“OK,” Alan responded, rubbing his temples trying to massage the stress away.
“Massimo is out there somewhere. In some form, yes?”
“The most important think we have to keep in mind is that HE wants YOU to find him,” Neil reasoned.
“I never thought it through like that. Yes, you’re right,” Alan said sitting up straighter. “This is good, keep going.”
“He wants you, and no one else to find him,” Neil said of the top of his head. He hadn’t really developed a full argument, so he was winging it. “He has to leave clues, but clues only you can understand.”
“Yeah. Keep going.”
“No. I’m spent. There’s something we’re missing.Shit. I need a vacation.”
“Yeah,” Alan said as he slouched back again. “You know what? We do need a vacation. It’s Friday, so we’ll stop for the weekend. The next two days, at the least, no work. I mean it. We need to recharge.”
Swindon-Smythe and Karick made arrangements to visit their native lands, England and the Czech Republic, respectively, and neither was worried about being seen, their altered apprearences and new identity papers eliminating that problem. For the first time in a few weeks Alan was alone.
“Is anyone sitting here?”
Alan looked up from his paper, the International Herald Tribune, and saw two women standing abreast his table. It was a sunny morning as only an early July day in Paris can be light. After the dampness of Switzerland it was a welcome respite, and he took advantage of it, choosing to sit at an outside table for his morning coffee and croissant. The two young ladies before him were about his age, perhaps a few years older.
“No. Go right ahead,” he allowed, signaling to the waiter to come and take a new order. After the garcon had gone back inside the café Alan introduced himself.
“Nice to meetya, Alan, I’m Margo and this is Lisa,” the blonde one said, extending her hand. She was almost as tall as he, and she had, from what her could see, a very nice, curvy figure, punctuated by wide flaring hips. Lisa was slighter and darker, with a trim body and small but very attractive breasts. Both wore shorts, Margo a button-down shirt with the tails tied up to expose her tummy, Lisa a plain white t-shirt, and Alan could tell that she was bra-less.
“So, what brings you two ladies to Paris?”
“Oh, we’re bouncing around Europe for the summer, Eurail pass and all. We just graduated,” Lisa said. She had a slight Hispanic accent.
“Congrats! Where did you go to school.”
“I went to G.W., and Lisa went to Colgate. But we grew up together and we’re both going to law school at Virginia, next month. You?”
“Oh, I just finished my freshman year. Columbia.” The pair was impressed.
“Are you backpacking this summer, too?” Lisa asked, though she somehow doubted it. Alan was dressed too nicely to be someone living out of a rucksack. She admired the lines of his Italian suit while waiting for his answer.
“I wish! No, I’m over here for work. Just taking a few days off. So, you grew up together. Where?”
Margo answered. “Montclair, New Jersey. Heard of it?”
“Yeah actually, I have. I’m from Westchester, so were from the same area really, and one of the guys on my hall last year is from there. Do you know Paul Sullivan?”
“The name sounds familiar,” Lisa said thoughtfully. “Is his older sister Melissa? Lissa Sullivan? She was in our class, and I think she had a younger brother.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Alan answered. “Maybe. We never discussed brothers and sisters.”
Their coffee and breakfast came and they set out sipping and chewing. Alan had his cup refilled and glanced at the paper from time to time, not wanting to seem rude. He noticed that there were a couple of vacant tables in front of the café and wondered why the two coeds hadn’t taken one, but had asked to sit with him. So, he asked.
“Oh, ah, well, we saw you reading the English paper, and we’ve been sort of starved for conversation lately. Neither of us speak French, only Spanish, so we figured you’d be someone we could talk to,” Lisa said.
“I take it,” Alan said, proceeding delicately, “That Spanish is your first language,” he asked Lisa.
“Yeah, that’s easy enough to tell. I was born in Costa Rica, and we moved to the States when I was ten. That’s when I met Margo,” she said, casting a friendly glance her friend’s way.”
“Why did your family leave Costa Rica?”
“My dad got a research fellowship at a hospital in New York, and we never left. My mom is half-American (her mom was born there), so citizenship was never a problem, and dad’s fellowship turned into a permanent position.”
“Yeah,” Margo piped in, “My dad’s the one that hired your dad. And that’s that. We’ve been friends ever since. Best friends.”
“So let me get this straight, two doctors have daughters and they both go to law school. It must be their worst nightmare!” Alan joked. The two females giggled, and assured him that their fathers, though slightly unnerved by the career choice, were supportive nonetheless.
“What’s your job?” Margo asked. Alan told them he had an internship with a multinational antiquities consulting company, and left it at that. When the comestibles were at last consumed the three agreed to spend the day together, seeing the sights Paris had to offer.
It wasn’t that late, just after nine, but the three of them were relaxing in a bistro, bowls of onion soup before them, a bottle of vin ordinaire mostly sipped away. All three of them were foot-weary, and Margo was a little drunk, listing to the side, occasionally brushing against Alan. He didn’t mind; she reminded him of Kate. A blond, slightly older, taller, and more confident Kate. Lisa had been less affected by the night’s revels. From time to time she reached out and peeled the label from the glass of the wine bottle; it was a habit, a little bit of a compulsion, something she always did.
“Soren, my roommate back at college, does that too.”
“What?” Lisa asked.
“That thing you’re doing with the bottle. He does that too, though mostly with beer bottles.”
“It’s getting on late,” Lisa commented, consulting her watch. “Shit, I wish our hostel wasn’t all the way over on the other side of town.”
“You could stay at my hotel,” he offered. The women blushed. “One of my business colleagues went to London for a couple of days, and the other to Prague” he hastily added. “You can use their rooms, a suite, actually.”
“Sure,” they both said at once.
“Nice place,” Lisa said approvingly, eying the sumptuous three bedroom suite. “What was it you said you did, again?”
“Oh, just a summer intern, me,” Alan lied. “The room is being paid for by the company, so...” This seemed to satisfy the two of them.
Lisa went into one of the bathrooms to take a shower, and Margo took another one. Alan slipped off his shoes and suit coat, and took his tie out of the pocket and hung it up in the closet in his room. After a very short while both ladies emerged from their respective bathrooms wearing the hotel’s white fluffy bathrobes.
The room service man knocked shortly thereafter; he deposited the coffee service and Alan signed for the tip. Margo and Lisa eagerly helped themselves as Alan dashed off for his own shower.
“How do you take yours?” Margo asked as Alan reappeared.
“What?” He had a towel over his head, drying his hair, rubbing it vigorously back and forth over his pate.
“Coffee. How do you take your coffee?”
“If it’s good coffee, black”
Margo poured him a cup and he made his way to the couch and took it from her. As they sipped and enjoyed the view from the window Margo thought about the day just passed. They had gone out that morning looking. It had been so long since they had spent time with an English-peaking person, so they had gone to three cafés before seeing Alan. His copy of the IHT had pegged him as a probable American, and he had been reading the baseball box scores as they approached, and that clinched it.
In a word, they were lonely, and by meeting Alan they had lucked out. Not only was he what they were looking for at the basest level, a fellow Yank (even from the same part of the country as they were), but he was nice and charming and witty, and good company. Though he wasn’t movie-star handsome he was OK to look at. He had a really good job, judging by the luxury of the hotel and this suite, and he dressed well.
“So. what are we doing tomorrow?” Lisa asked from the couch opposite, her mouth curled up in a small grin.
“Whatever you like, ladies,” Alan answered, returning the smile.
“Cool,” Margo, this time, “We’ll need to head back to the hostel in the morning to change our clothes and stuff.”
“Yeah,” Lisa said, “I’m glad for these robes. I wasn’t looking forward to getting back into my sweaty clothes, though we will have to a some point.”
Margo leaned in closer to Alan, he shoulder lightly pressing into his. She had a loopy smile on her face, and it wasn’t from drink. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
Alan pressed closer to her. “I do.”
“What’s her name?” Lisa asked, her eyes shiny. They didn’t know it but Alan was increasing their arousal. He, too, had been lonely of late, his only companions a British archaeologist and a former Czech intelligence agent. He hadn’t seen Kate in weeks, and he was horny as hell; just spending time with these two attractive women made him realize he had been without sex for a long a period since he had become a Vessel of the Seed.
“Kate, her name is Kate.” Alan told them a few things about his raven-haired girlfriend.
“Is she pretty,” Margo asked, batting her eyelashes. “As pretty as us?”
“She’s very pretty. You,” he said indicating Margo with a wave of his hand, “Remind me of her, though she is a little curvier, and she has this really nice head of black hair, I mean really really black, like coal.”
“I bet she wouldn’t be to happy to know you were spending the night in a hotel with two pretty girls like us, huh?” Lisa asked, her breathing shallow.
“We, uh, have an arrangement.”
“Oh, yeah, I’ve heard that one a hundred times.” Margo said with a dismissive snort, and Lisa agreed. Alan used his power to up the erotic feelings the two of them were experiencing. On the opposite couch Lisa began to rub her thighs together in a languid rhythm, and Margo began to tremble almost imperceptibly.
“Yeah,” Lisa added, “What? An open relationship? You get to sleep with all the women you want to and she gets to sleep with all the men she wants to?”
“Not quite,” he said, looking right at her. Lisa felt like this guy could see right through her, and she was turned on like she had rarely been before.
“Oh,” whispered Margo at his side, her hand lightly stroking his exposed thigh, her fingertips tracing a soft pattern on his knee. “What, you get to sleep with women and she can’t? You cad, you,” she giggled.
“Actually, it’s simpler than that. I get to sleep with all the women I want, and she gets to sleep with all the women she wants. Fair’s fair, don’t you think?”
Lisa sucked in her breath hard. She had never been with another women sexually, but it was one of her deep-seeded fantasies, a fantasy which had increased of late. Spending all of this time with Margo in close quarters recently had, in some small way, made her bisexual tendencies a little less latent.
For Margo’s part she was completely stunned. Not only had she never had any sexual contact with another woman she had never even fantasized about girl-girl sex. She knew of it, of course, but never thought about it much. If she wasn’t so turned on at this moment she would have bolted to the bathroom, dressed quickly and fled the room. Alan had scanned them during their day out together so he knew where, so to speak, the pieces stood on the board.
“You’re kidding,” they both said at once.
“I assure you, I am not. Kate loves me, and I love her, but she also loves having sex with women, so we decided that both of us could pursue that,” he paused to think of the right word, “Avenue.”
“That is so, so—” Margo was flailing mentally trying to decide what she thought of this.
“—HOT!” Lisa squeaked. She shifted position slightly, her ass grinding into the cushions of the sofa trying to deal with the tingling she felt below the waist. Her nipples were hard, pressing against the inside of the robe, stimulated by the arousal within her and the feel of the soft fabric without her.
“Lisa!” Margo objected, but her companions could sense its half-heartedness.
“It doesn’t turn you on?” Alan asked, his hand against her thigh slowly moving towards the hem of her robe. She said nothing, her eyes fixed on his moving hand. She was silent as it slipped under the cloth, and she shuddered as she felt his fingers at her cleft. She moaned as she looked up at him hungrily, her blue eyes sparkly with desire. As he began to rub her slit with his fingertips she gasped and didn’t fully hear him as he restated the question; she was distracted by the sight of her best friend standing up and shedding her robe before coming over to their side of the coffee table. Lisa sat on the other side of Alan and began kissing him on his neck and shoulder, but her eyes were fast on Margo, and she shivered imagining what Alan’s hands were doing under her friend’s robe.
“Does it turn you on? Two girls, doing whatever?” the question was put to Margo again, but this time by Lisa.
“Yesssssss!” Margo hissed, raising her groin up in hopes of increasing contact with Alan’s magic fingers. She wasn’t quite sure if she was answering the question or just giving a general endorsement of what was happening to her, but upon hearing it Lisa jumped up, moved around Alan and fell to her knees in front of Margo, he hand rapidly joining his under the blonde’s robe. As Lisa forced a finger up Margo’s pussy Alan sent the blonde a mental command that she should come once Lisa got all the way up there, and Margo shrieked in release, her chest heaving as he lower body seized up in orgasm.
“No,” she whimpered as she writhed on the couch, her body warm yet still shivering at the treatment she was receiving at the hands of Alan and her best friend, “This is, this is wr-wrong,” she muttered through her convulsions. Lisa started licking her pussy, and her head fell back, her neck limp as she shaked and writhed under her best friend’s lingual attack.
Alan moved his head in to cover her mouth with his, but he was beaten to the punch by the kneeling brunette. Margo was shocked, shocked that she found herself kissing another girl, but she melted at the contact; Lisa was so hot she could feel her womanly secretions drip off her mound and slide down her inner thighs. She gasped when she felt the tip of Margo’s tongue tentatively emerge and lick around her mouth, and groaned upon feeling enter her mouth. She tasted delicious, and hoped Margo thought she tasted just as nice.
Before she knew what was happening Margo found herself being led to one of the bedrooms, Lisa holding her left arm, Alan her right. Her legs felt like jelly and she was sort of half-dragged along. The two of them deposited her on the bed; her robe had slipped off during the journey, and she hadn’t realized she was naked until she felt the bedspread against her skin. As she tried to sit upright Lisa tackled her and laid down on top of her, pinning her by the wrists to the top of the bed. They kissed again, and if truth be told Margo had never had a more passionate make out session. She had almost forgotten all about Alan when she felt him softly cupping her tits, and she shuddered in response. Suddenly Lisa’s mouth abandoned hers; she opened her eyes and saw Alan and her friend now going at it. The respite gave Margo a chance to breathe, a chance to think. “If I’m smart I’ll get out of here, and maybe drag Lisa off with me,” she pondered, but in the end she did nothing. Unconsciously her hand made its way down her body until her fingers were buried in her crotch, her fingertips tickled by the silky yellow pubic hair. Watching them go at it was turning her on even more. Alan had flipped Lisa over so she was flat on her back, and she could see his hard cock slowly rubbing against her glistening pussy. Without knowing why she reached out and grasped it, guiding it to Lisa’s opening. Lisa screamed at penetration, and Margo held onto the portion of his penis that was still outside her friend.
“Man, she’s tight,” Alan thought as he slowly fed his cock into Lisa. He was thinking about moving Margo’s hand off his dick so he could fully penetrate Lisa, but it really didn’t matter, there was no way that he was getting more than half of himself inside her. He slowly pulled out a few inches and fed them back in, keeping up a slow rhythm, but Lisa was having none of it.
“Ha- ha- harder,” she moaned, lifting her hips off the bed, trying to get him to fuck her harder. “Fuck me harder!” Margo softened her grasp on the exposed portion of Alan’s cock as he began to pump Lisa with greater force, though he was unable to force more of himself in her. Lisa’s face was bright red, and she began to mumble something in Spanish Alan couldn’t quite make out. After a few minutes Margo, following Lisa’s mammoth first orgasm, took her hand away, startled at how drenched it was with Lisa’s juices. Alan and Lisa were concentrated on each other, and making sure neither of them were watching her she gradually brought her wet hand to her lips; cautiously he tongue came out her mouth and tasted the shiny girl come. By the time Alan looked her way she was avidly cleaning her palm.
Without Alan’s prompting, either verbal or mental Margo lowered her head and captured the closer of Lisa’s nipples between her teeth.
“Oh Yes, Margo! I like that!” Lisa squealed, her jaw vibrating with passion. “Uh, uh, more,” she gasped. Another orgasm rolled through her body, and Alan came in her, exacerbating the shocking sensations she felt. She was panting as Margo kissed her, and their tongues dueled feverishly; Lisa’s face took on a wry smile as she tasted herself on Margo’s lips, and she gasped again as she felt her friend move down on her body. Margo licked Lisa’s nipples for a short while, and then she lowered again and considered the sight of the come-filled pussy before hesitantly swiping her tongue across the dark-haired slit.
Alan watch the scene unfold with a giddy look upon him; Lisa’s eyes rolled back and she began to grunt as Margo devoured her. Hard again, Alan shifted, kneeling behind the crouching Margo, and she started feeling his hot erection against her ass cheeks, shivering in arousal as he rubbed the head of his prick up and down her sopping slit.
“Fuck me now,” Margo hissed, pulling her face away from Lisa’s pussy; Lisa put her hands on the back of Margo’s head, her fingers woven through her blond mane, trying to get her back in place. Margo growled in her pussy as Alan sank most of his cock into Margo’s steaming womanhood.
“Mrrrmph! Mrrrmph! Mrrrmph! Mrrrmph!” was all Margo was able to express, her mouth occupied with Lisa’s pleasure.
Lisa came first, one fist pounding the mattress, the other clenching around a handful of Margo’s light-hued locks.
“Ow! Shit! Lisa, the hurts,” Margo yelled at her writhing friend, shaking her head vigorously, successfully escaping the painful grasp Lisa had of her hair. “Ooooooh, yeah!” she moaned as she felt Alan’s cock moving within her. He was giving her full strokes, pulling out so just the head was nestled in her sodden snatch, then powering forward so his groin slapped against her firm butt with a smacking sound. Lisa, recovered to some extent, shimmied down the bed and got under her friend, her mouth immediately settling on one of Margo’s swinging breasts, the her hand massaging the other. From time to time Lisa swapped breasts as Margo became lost in a haze of multiple orgasms, her pussy clamping down and squeezing Alan’s dick as she gushed out juices around it.
“No, w-w-w-w-wait. I’ve never had it there b-b-before,” the blonde stuttered upon feeling Alan withdraw and place his oily cock head against her sphincter.
“Shhhh, baby, you’ll love it,” Alan assured her as he used his Seed powers to relax her aperture and increase her suppressed desire for anal sex.
“Ohmigod! Is he doing what I think he’s doing?” Lisa exclaimed.
“He’s fucking, he’s fucking, he’s fucking my butt,” Margo whined, her body stiffening as she felt an inch or two invade her tightest passage. As Alan slowly penetrated to her full depth Margo felt Lisa’s fingers at her vagina. Two fingers of Lisa’s left hand went right to Margo’s stretched front passage, Lisa used the fingers on her other hand to gently strum at Margo’s engorged clit. The eroticism of it finally allowed Margo to relax, her mind and conscious effort clouded by her lusts, and she was astonished to realize that Alan had sunk all of his huge cock up her virgin ass. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on the feelings the two of them were fomenting within her, but she just lost it, degenerating to her basic animal responses. Inarticulate, she became animalistic, grunting and groaning like a beast, her rumblings accelerating as Lisa shimmied down again and began to lick and suck at her cunt.
As Alan shot his load in her spasming ass Margo orgasmed again and passed out, her pussy pinning Lisa’s head to the bed. Lisa scampered out from under Margo quickly, in time to watch Margo’s little rosebud contract back, a trickle of Alan’s pearly seed trickling out and dripping to the bedspread.
“Gross. Hot,” she panted, pulling Alan into an almost breathtaking kiss, wiggling her sweaty body against his as he licked Margo’s spending from her shimmering face. Before long two of them found themselves in the shower, Lisa on her knees trying to take as much of his wonderful cock in her mouth as she could. The petite Latina was disappointed with her efforts, only swallowing about three inches, but Alan would be the last to complain. Her tongue fluttered around his glans in an exquisitely delightful manner, and before long her was unleashing stream after stream of his come in her mouth and down her eager throat.
Alan fucked Lisa’s ass when they returned to the bedroom, surprisingly a more “successful” endeavor; Lisa’s rear passage was able to accommodate his shaft to the hilt, though not without a long and drawn out effort. He took her from underneath, his hands caressing her butt as it rose up and fell down the length of his dick, his eyes often coming to rest on the small butterfly tattoo on her left cheek. Margo didn’t stir in the slightest as Lisa’s screams echoed of the hotel’s walls as Alan hosed her ass full of his semen.
Lisa turned over, onto her back. Margo was nestled beside her, curled up in a ball, her head under Lisa’s arm. Lisa felt as if she couldn’t move, she was stiff and tired. Through the doorway of the bathroom she watched raptly as Alan went about his morning business. The mirror was steamy with a small patch in the center wiped away, and she relaxed as she witched him shave. The vapor went away gradually, and when Alan finished washing the stray bits of later off of his face he spied her watching him, and winked. She gathered up her strength and sat up and he turned to face her.
“Morning. How you feeling?” he asked.
“Ugh, like a truck hit me, but in a good way,” she laughed. Margo still hadn’t moved.
“Glad to hear it,” he chuckled. “Listen, would you call down for room service while I dress? Just dial ‘0’ and ask for breakfast for three plus coffee.”
While Alan was in the next room checking the messages on his cell phone and calling his attorney in New York out of her earshot, Lisa picked up the phone. To her annoyance she was placed on hold, and while she waited she began rubbing her fingers across the tatty velvet lining of the steel box open on then nightstand next to the king sized bed. Without realizing what she was doing she started to peel the material away from the inner hull of the box, and it wasn’t until Alan had reentered the bedroom that she realized she had completely removed it.
“Sorry about your box,” she said sheepishly.
Alan played it cool, though he was a little pissed off. He walked over to her side of the bed and assessed the damage. Still playing it cool he made no reaction upon seeing what Lisa had revealed through the force of her habit. At the bottom of the box he saw a depression in the steel, circular, and to his eye the exact diameter of the rings her wore on each hand. “Holy shit! he thought. Margo was waking, and she and Lisa needed little convincing of the need for showers. Though they considered having it together, in the end the opted to use separate bathrooms. With them out of the room Alan practically yanked off Massimo’s ring and gingerly fit it into the depression in the box. Nothing. He tried his own. Nothing. He rang up Neil and told him of the new development, and they discussed it briefly. Hiding his disappointment as the girls returned he sealed the box and put it on a shelf in the closet. The breakfast came, coffee, rolls and butter with little pots of fresh warm jam, and fruit, and the three of them inhaled it, ringing down again for another round of coffee.
Reluctantly the Lisa and Margo dressed in yesterday’s clothes. Alan had the concierge arrange for a car, and the three of them motored over to the youth hostel, where the two ladies changed their clothes. Margo needed to remove her contact, not having the opportunity the night prior, and she came back downstairs wearing a fetching pair of tortoise shelled glasses. Both of them were also donning large backpacks.
“Checking out?” Alan asked, a smile beginning to form.
The two of them were taken aback.
“We didn’t assume, or anything,” Margo blurted.
“I just thought,” Lisa said at the same time.
“No problem, no problem. We’ll take the car back to my hotel and leave your stuff,” he assured them, and they let out massive sighs of relief.
They decided to keep the car for the day, and the driver took them to Versailles. Karick and Neil were due back in a couple of days, and Neil had mentioned on the phone that morning some things they might try with the ring and the box..